Divine by Mistake

by P. C. Cast

  I turned and looked over the deep forest. Overshadowed by clouds it looked sleepy and harmless. I continued turning, and got occasional glimpses through the fog of the verdant green of what must be the beginnings of Ufasach Marsh.

  Before I could complete my circle, Victoria yelled, “There!”

  I yanked the telescope from my eye to see Victoria pointing into the west at a dark smudge that spread across the western horizon. I lifted the glass back to my eye, surprised by the sudden trembling in my hands.

  “Take it.” I handed it to Vic. “Look for me, my hands won’t be still.”

  The Huntress took the glass and calmly put it to her eye, focusing the wheel as I had done before.

  “It is the rear line of our archers,” she said as she looked.

  I remembered the group of centaurs I had noticed who carried dangerous-looking longbows slung across their backs, along with quivers filled with long, pointed arrows.

  “Are they good archers?” I asked.

  “Except for Woulff’s men, they are the best in Partholon.”

  “I wish Woulff was here, too.”

  “As do I.” She kept watching. “The warriors must not have engaged the Fomorians yet. I can see the archers firing rounds, their bows pointed high into the sky.” She adjusted the focus again. “There, I can see the line of our warriors. They are waiting for the archers to finish.”

  It started to drizzle as I looked intently into the west. I was able to make out the distant line of archers and the rain of arrows that flew at intervals up and out, then down, as though the clouds were belching death. Between the rounds of arrows, I saw something that glistened intermittently in front of the archers’ line.

  “What is that shining?”

  “Our centaurs have drawn their claymores,” she explained.

  I felt a chill travel down my spine.

  “They are advancing.” Her voice was emotionless and loud so that the Huntresses could hear what she was saying. Listening to her I felt an odd detachment, almost like we were watching a bizarre TV program. It was hard for me to believe my husband was part of that line of glinting swords.

  “What’s happening now?”

  She took the telescope from her eye and handed it to me. “The battle has begun.”

  I wiped droplets of moisture from the lens before resting my elbows against the rail that ran around the top of the balustrades, which kept my hands from shaking. Then I raised the telescope to my eye and focused on the distant scene.

  Through the dreary morning I could see the moving line of centaurs, several thick, as the archers parted and, brandishing their own claymores they dispersed to join the left and right flanks. I tried to focus on individual centaurs, but they were too far away. I couldn’t even see any Fomorians, just the straining, heaving backs of the centaurs as the line moved forward in some places and surged back in others.

  “I can’t tell what the hell is going on.” I took my eye from the glass and handed it back to Vic.

  “It could go on like this for hours.” She smiled gently at me. “The first battle you witness is always the most horrible.”

  “Basically, all we can do is stand here and watch?” I asked.

  “That is all we can do.”

  And that is what we did. As the morning changed to midday, five young students brought us sandwiches of hard bread, meat and cheese, along with skins of sweet wine.

  “Tell Thalia there is no change,” I said to one of the girls.

  “She already knows, Lady Rhiannon,” she said as she left the roof.

  “Thalia sees many things,” Vic said.

  “She sure does.”

  We chewed our food, taking turns looking through the telescope. As I finished my sandwich, the Huntress to the right of me, Cathleen, handed me the telescope so I could take my turn. I took several drinks of the sweet wine to clear my throat, and then I raised the glass to my eye, refocusing until the battlefield came into sharp view.

  And I felt a sudden urge to puke up my lunch.

  “Vic!” The Huntress moved quickly to my side. I handed her the telescope. “The line is moving.”

  She raised the glass to her eye, looking intently. Her breath sucked in, and her body grew very still. “The centaurs have broken.” Her voice was a death knell. “These women are doomed.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “No!” I grabbed her arm. “Fomorians cannot cross water. Being separated from the earth by flowing water causes them unbearable pain. If we can get the women across the bridge to the other side of the river, they will be safe.”

  She handed me the telescope, and while I refocused it she called orders to the Huntresses.

  “We must move the women across the bridge. The creatures have broken through our warriors. The only way the women will be safe is if they cross over the river. Help them get to safety. Now!”

  I pressed my body against the balustrade as the Huntresses passed me to retrace their path down the treacherous stairwell, and gazed in horror through the telescope. Now I could see the winged shapes of the Fomorians as they inundated the centaur ranks. There was no longer a discernible line—instead, there was a jumble of bodies as the battle swelled toward us. I was still unable to recognize individual centaurs, but I could clearly see creatures being hacked apart by claymores, and centaurs being clawed to their knees as groups of the creatures broke off to single out and surround individual warriors. As I watched, masses of creatures were slain, only to be replaced by more and more of their fellow creatures, who used the bodies of their fallen comrades to stand upon so that they were more equal in height with the battling centaurs. Wave upon wave of claws and teeth washed over the centaurs. They had no choice but to give ground.

  “Come, Rhea, we have work to do.”

  “I don’t see him!”

  “Rhea, he said he would find you. It does no good for you to stay here watching. But you can help us get the women to safety.”

  I made myself lower the telescope and turn away from the battle scene. “Let’s get the women out of here.” I hurried from the roof with Victoria close behind me.

  As we entered the banquet chamber, the fearful chatter of the girls quieted. Thalia walked silently to stand before us.

  “The centaur army cannot hold the Fomorians. They will overrun the temple,” I said, surprised at how calm I sounded.

  “Yes, my Goddess has already spoken thus to me. What must we do?”

  “You must have all the women make their way quickly to the bridge. Fomorians cannot cross the Geal River. Once you are on the other side of the river, you will be safe.”

  I looked around the room until I spotted Sila.

  “Sila, get those who are ill onto pallets, the Huntresses will transport them.”

  The centaur Healer nodded and cantered from the room.

  “It must be now, Thalia, the army cannot have much time remaining.”

  “Ladies…” Thalia’s regal voice filled the room. “Follow the Priestesses to the bridge—we must leave our temple. Take nothing with you except your lives.” Then she tilted her head to the side, and the room remained silent while she listened to an internal voice that I understood all too well. “My Goddess assures me this is not the last time we will see our beloved temple—what is lost will be regained. Now, quickly, and as we leave let us each pray fervently that the brave centaurs will join us across the river.”

  The Priestesses were the first to hurry to the exit doors, each followed by an orderly group of her students. Erato took Thalia by the hand, and together they encouraged those at the rear to keep up with the others.

  Thalia would have made a really good high school teacher. (But she would’ve had to take a big cut in pay.)

  “You should go with them, Rhea,” Vic said.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To help move those who are ill.” Her fellow Huntresses were already cantering through the door Sila had used.

  “I stay with you.” Before she could ar
gue, I reminded her, “ClanFintan told me to stay with you.”

  She sighed, but said, “Then come here, we can move more quickly if you are astride me.” Much like ClanFintan, Vic grabbed my upper arm and I grabbed hers, then she tossed me easily onto her sleek back. I held tightly to her shoulders as she sprinted to the exit, following her Huntresses. We skidded around corners and turned down elaborately decorated halls, following the clear echo of hooves in the otherwise silent temple. We burst through an opened door to an outside garden in time to see the back of one of the Huntresses disappearing through a door across the courtyard. She leaped across the space in several long strides.

  “You are damn fast,” I yelled into her ear.

  “I am Lead Huntress,” she yelled back, like that explained everything.

  We caught up to the Huntresses just as I smelled a familiar odor. Vic and I wrinkled our noses.

  “This must be the place,” I said as our group came to a large door.

  I slid off her back, and Vic opened the door. Sila was in the middle of the room, helping patients from their beds and onto thick blanket-like pallets. She looked up as we entered.

  “Those near the door are ready to be moved,” she said, then turned back to the pustule-marked teenager who was leaning heavily on her arm.

  “There are more of them than I anticipated.” Victoria spoke in low tones to her centaurs. “Work quickly, Huntresses.”

  “Sila!” Vic caught her attention. “We have very little time.”

  Sila’s eyes widened, but the centaur Healer’s gentle voice did not betray the worry reflected in her eyes. “Listen, ladies!” The room became abruptly silent. “Those of you who are able must be transported astride the Huntresses. Stand if you think you are able to ride.” About a dozen young women rose slowly to their feet.

  The Huntresses moved quickly to the standing women. I followed them, helping to lift the sick girls to the centaurs’ backs. As each Huntress turned to exit the room, a tall woman dressed in black blessed them and admonished them to hold tightly so they wouldn’t fall.

  “Priestess,” I heard Sila addressing the woman when the last Huntress had left the room. “You must join the others at the river crossing.”

  “I will not leave until this room is emptied,” was her dramatic reply.

  She must be Melpomene, Muse of Tragedy. I wanted to roll my eyes and say, “That figures,” but I thought it’d be rude.

  As I helped another teenager out of her bed, a dark-haired woman who was propped up against pillows caught my eye.

  I almost called her Michelle, but caught myself in time.

  “Terpsichore.” I stopped at her bedside, studying her. “You look well enough to ride, be sure to get on the next Huntress who returns.”

  “My students leave first.” Her eyes were bright with fever and her face was flushed. She was obviously in the beginning stages of the disease.

  “They need you with them.” I tried to reason with her, but I recognized the familiar stubborn set of her jaw. (Usually she was being stubborn about buying a $250 silk blouse when she could only afford a $40 cotton pullover, but it was the same immovable stubbornness.)

  “And those who leave last will need me, too.”

  “Fine.” I knew better than to waste my time arguing with her. “Just watch your butt when time gets short. You do not want to be caught by those things.” I started to walk away, and her voice stopped me.

  “Rhiannon, I hear you have changed.”

  “Yes, I am not like I used to be.”

  “Then I truly do wish you happiness in your mating.” This time her blessing was genuine.

  “Thank you.” I smiled at her, and went back to work, helping the sick girls get ready to be moved. I hoped she would show enough sense to get across the river—I didn’t want to think about what would happen to her if the creatures caught her. Except for the unnaturally bright flush of her skin, she was still breathtakingly beautiful.

  I was lifting a wraith-thin girl from her bed and making her smile by telling her that she wouldn’t weigh ninety pounds soaking wet with a squirrel in her pocket, when the Huntresses slid back into the room in a clatter of hooves and began loading up for their second evacuation trip. The girl I was carrying shrieked suddenly with much more strength than I would have thought possible. I looked up to see Dougal burst through the open door.

  “Get across the river now!” he shouted between ragged breaths. “The warriors are keeping them out of the temple for as long as possible, but they are close behind me.” His sides quivered, and he was spattered with blood and gore. There was an angry-looking slash across his shoulder, and another gash across his cheek was steadily seeping blood. He looked so much like his dying brother that I had to choke back tears.

  Sila rushed to his side and began examining his many wounds.

  The room broke into a cacophony of sound and motion until the tall Priestess, Melpomene, raised her black-robed arms, clapping her hands together in a bursting ball of sparks.

  Yep, there sure as hell was magic here.

  “This is what we shall do.” She spoke in an imperious tone. “Those of you who are able to ride will climb astride the Huntresses. Those of you who can walk, go down the rear pathway to the river. If you cannot make it to the bridge, conceal yourselves in the foliage near the water. The rest of us will remain here.”

  “If you remain here, you will die.” I spoke with surety into the stillness of the room.

  “Epona’s Chosen, you should know that we are not without defenses.” The Priestess smiled at me, and I was amazed at the transformation that occurred in her appearance. Her smile softened the harsh lines of her face, and let her underlying beauty become visible. “Wait no longer. Save yourselves. We have placed ourselves in the loving hands of our Goddesses.”

  I saw that Terpsichore was walking purposefully to stand by the dark woman’s side. She looked serene and lovely and spoke in a calm, unhurried voice.

  “Lady Rhiannon, did you not send word that your Goddess has revealed to you that the way to combat the pox is to isolate those who have been infected with it from other people?”

  “Yes, smallpox is very contagious,” I answered quickly, not sure why she was taking time to repeat old instructions.

  “So contagious that it can spread easily if an infected person mingles with those who are healthy?”

  “Yes, it can be spread easily, but there needs to be contact between the ill person and the well person.”

  “And are the Fomorians not humanlike?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will remain and have contact with them,” she said simply.

  “No! They’ll kill you. Or worse. Anyway, even if they can get the disease—and we don’t know for sure that they can—it can be transmitted to them through the diseased waste left on these blankets.” I gestured at the mess of linens that lay abandoned around the room.

  “What would creatures like that want with these soiled linens?” Her laughter was like music. “No—” her lovely face sobered “—my Goddess and I have decided. This is how it must be.”

  “We have to leave now!” Dougal’s strained voice interrupted the silence that the Muse’s words evoked.

  “Whatever happens to me is a small price to pay to give the creatures so priceless a gift.” Terpsichore’s thick-lashed eyes sparked with the irony of her words.

  “What you do here will not be forgotten,” I said, awed by her sacrifice. “I give you my word.”

  “I am pleased my final performance will be remembered,” she said before melting into the graceful bow of a prima ballerina.

  “It will be,” I promised before shifting my attention to the rest of the room. “Let’s go!” I yelled and the room exploded back into action as sick teenagers scrambled aboard Huntresses.

  Sila approached me and paused long enough to hand me a leather purselike pouch suspended on a long leather thong. I looked at her questioningly.

  She spoke quietly. �
��Within the pouch is ointment that numbs and helps to close wounds.” She glanced across the room at Dougal. “Apply it sparingly, many may need it. And be certain you take a skinful of wine before you leave, too.” She pointed to a table filled with full leather bladders.

  I nodded my understanding and slung the thong over my head so that the pouch rested snugly against my left side near my waist, and grabbed one of the wineskins and slung it over my other shoulder. Then I went back to work loading the Huntresses with sick girls.

  As the last patient scrambled aboard Elaine, I looked around the room and saw that Sila was supporting four stumbling girls as they slowly made their way out the back exit of the room.

  “Sila!” I shouted after her.

  She turned and I heard her angelic voice from across the room. “I will go with these sick ones. If the Goddess wills, we will meet you across the river.” Without taking any more time, she and her entourage moved through the door.

  “Lady Rhea, we have no more time.” Dougal held a shaking, blood-covered hand out to help me mount. All of the Huntresses except Victoria were already out the door; the fading echo of their hooves rang as they galloped down the hall.

  Victoria moved quickly to my side, brushing away Dougal’s hand.

  “You are in no shape to bear even her slight weight.” She grabbed my arm and tossed me to her back. As we thundered toward the exit, I craned my neck around in time to see Melpomene and Terpsichore holding hands in the middle of a circle of about half a dozen women who were too sick to move. Their heads were bowed and they looked like they were suffused with light. Then we, too, burst out into the hall.

  CHAPTER 16

  The Huntresses were out of sight somewhere ahead of us, but Victoria confidently dodged around corners and cut through gardens, until we finally cleared the internal maze of the temple and found ourselves on the front lawn. We veered to the left, but a movement on our right caught my eye.

  “Victoria!” I yelled, pulling on her shoulder with one hand and pointing with the other. Dougal and the Huntress skidded to a halt, turning in the direction I was pointing. Spilling onto the northwestern edge of the lawn was a ragged line of centaurs. They attempted to stand their ground, and their claymores sang as they hacked at one winged creature after another. But, just as I had witnessed in the telescope, as soon as one creature fell, another stepped in to take its place—all teeth and claws, standing atop its fallen comrade. Step by step, they beat back the centaur line. As I watched, one exhausted centaur fell to his knees and six creatures leaped on his back, raking their claws over him, turning his coat red with his own blood.