Priestess of Avalon

Home > Fantasy > Priestess of Avalon > Page 5
Priestess of Avalon Page 5

by Marion Zimmer Bradley


  I wish you could go with me too, I thought, but I must do this alone… Then I sat up and allowed my invisible abductors to help me out of the bed, wrap a warm cloak around me, and lead me away.

  Gravel crunched beneath my feet, and I knew they were taking the path beside the Lake. I smelled the dank scent of marsh and heard the wind whisper in the reedbeds, and wondered, for a moment, whether they meant to take me across the water to one of the other isles.

  Several times my escort reversed direction, spinning me about until my head whirled and only a firm grip on my elbow kept me from falling. Instinctively I lifted a hand to the hood, and someone else prevented me from lifting it.

  "Do not attempt to see," came a harsh whisper in my ear. "You have set your feet upon the path to a future you cannot know. You must walk this way without looking back to your childhood, trusting the wisdom of those who have gone before to show you the way. Do you understand?"

  I nodded, accepting the ritual necessity, but I had always had an excellent sense of direction, and as my dizziness passed I could feel the power of the Tor to my right, like a pillar of fire.

  Then we were climbing, and my skin pebbled as it was touched by chill, moist air. I heard the musical gurgling of water, and the little procession came to a halt as someone opened a gate. I was hearing the stream that overflowed from the Blood Spring at the foot of the Tor, I thought then. To know where I was made me feel a little less vulnerable. I tried to convince myself that I was trembling because of the cold.

  Suddenly, through the coarse weave of the hood I glimpsed the red gleam of torches. The hood was plucked off, and I realized that I had been right, for we were standing before the gate to the enclosure around the well. But everything looked strange. Veiled women surrounded me, anonymous in the flickering light. The smallest of them held my arm. They took my cloak then, and the thin sleeping robe, leaving me naked before them, shivering in the chill air.

  "Naked you came into the world," said the same harsh voice that had spoken before. "Naked you must make your passage into your new life."

  The one who held me pulled me back. I guessed it was Heron, from her size. It must be the responsibility of the most recent initiate to guide the next one. The other women were forming into a line between me and the gate, legs spread wide.

  "Through this passage you came into the world. Pass through the birthing tunnel and be reborn—"

  "You must crawl between their legs to the gate," hissed Heron, pushing me down.

  "Through this tunnel you are born into the circle of women. Through this passage you will enter a new world."

  Biting my lip as the gravel dug into my kneecaps, I crawled forward. I felt the rough weave of woollen cloaks and the softness of linen gowns brush my back. As I passed between the priestesses' thighs, smooth skin slid past my own and I smelled the musk of their womanhood, dizzying as incense. It was a shock to emerge from the warmth of that tunnel of flesh into the cool air of the garden beyond.

  The gate was open. My guide led me through it and the other women followed, spreading out to either side. The last one to enter closed the gate behind me. Torchlight glittered red on the still waters of the pool.

  A tall form stepped forward, blocking my view of the others. The shape was that of Cigfolla, but she seemed taller, and her voice had the unearthly resonance of ritual.

  "You have come into the temple of the Great Goddess. Know that She wears as many forms as womankind, and yet She is singular and supreme. She is eternal and unchanging, and yet she shows Herself to us in a different guise with each season. She is Maiden, forever untouched and pure. She is Mother, the Source of All. And She is ancient Wisdom that endures beyond the grave. Eilan, daughter of Rian, are you willing to accept Her in all Her guises?"

  I licked lips that were suddenly dry, but I was pleased to hear my answer coming steadily and clear.

  "I am…"

  The priestess raised her arms in invocation.

  "Lady, we come here to welcome Eilan daughter of Rian into our circle, and to instruct her in the mysteries of womanhood. Holy One, hear us now! May our words express Thy will as our bodies show the form of Thy divinity, for we eat and drink and breathe and love in Thee…'

  "Be it so—" came a murmur of assent from around the circle, and I felt myself begin to relax.

  Heron draped the cloak around my shoulders again and pushed me forwards. Three chairs had been set on the other side of the well. The other priestesses had unveiled, but the three who were enthroned were still swathed in folds of gossamer linen, white, and black, and in the middle, red. Aelia was sitting across the circle; as she caught my eye she smiled.

  "Daughter of the Goddess, you have left childhood behind," said Heron, with the careful intonation of one repeating newly-learned lines. "Learn now what the seasons of your life shall be."

  I knelt before the priestess who wore the white veil. For a moment there was silence. Then the sheer fabric trembled as its wearer laughed. The sound came sweet and silvery as a trill of bells, and I shivered, understanding that something more than a human priestess was here.

  "I am the flower that blooms on the bough," said the Maiden.

  The voice was light, sweet with promise, as familiar to me as my own, even though I was certain I had never heard it before. To hear it was like listening to the song of my soul, and I knew that this was the Goddess indeed.

  "I am the crescent that crowns the sky

  I am the sunlight that glitters on the wave

  and the breeze that bends the new grass.

  No man has ever possessed Me,

  and yet I am the end of all desire.

  Huntress and Holy Wisdom am I,

  Spirit of Inspiration, and Lady of Flowers.

  Look into the water and you will see

  My face mirrored there, for you belong to Me …"

  I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the image of the Lake, half-veiled by a silver mist of rain. Then the clouds parted. Standing on the shore was a young man whose hair shone like the beams of the sun, and nearby, I saw myself, my hair grown long, so I knew that this was some years in the future. I was moving towards him, but as I reached out to touch his hand the scene changed. Now I was seeing the light of a bonfire upon a Beltane tree crowned with flowers. Men and maidens danced wildly around it, and among them I saw the same young man, his eyes alight with exaltation as a veiled figure I knew to be myself was led forwards by priestesses crowned with flowers. Then he was sweeping me into his arms.

  Now we were within the sacred bower. He pulled off the maiden's veil and I saw my own face, alight with joy. I glimpsed the crescent moon through the new leaves, and then the scene dissolved in a shower of stars, and I was myself again, looking up at the Mystery hidden by the white veil.

  "I hear you," I whispered in a shaking voice. "I will serve you."

  "Will you swear now to give up your maidenhead only to the man whom I shall choose for you, in the holy rites of Avalon?"

  I stared, wondering if this was a test, for surely the Lady had just shown me the man I was destined to love. But the voice had lost that unearthly sweetness, and I thought that perhaps the Goddess had departed again. Still, I had known that this oath was required of all who served as priestesses on Avalon.

  "I swear," I said gladly, for even in that glimpse of vision my soul had begun to yearn for the young man I had seen.

  "It is well," said the Maiden, "but there is yet Another whom you must hear—" I sat back, turning a little towards the second figure, whose crimson veil glowed with the torches' fire.

  "I am the fruit that swells on the branches. I am the full moon that rules the sky…" This voice was all golden, powerful as the purr of some great cat, honey-sweet, and comforting as newly-baked bread.

  "I am the sun in her splendour

  and the warm wind that ripens the grain.

  I give myself in my own times and seasons,

  and bring forth abundance.

  I am Mistress and M
other, I give birth and I devour.

  I am the lover and the beloved,

  and you will one day belong to Me…"

  As I listened to this voice, I understood that this too was the Goddess, and bowed my head respectfully. And in that gesture of acceptance, vision came once more upon me.

  I was on a Roman trading boat, wallowing along under full sail. Behind me lay the silver glitter of the sea, but the boat was moving into the mouth of a mighty river that had carved many branching channels through a flat coastal plain. Beside me stood the man who had courted me, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The scene changed: I was heavy with child, and then I was holding the babe at my breast, a large and healthy boy with a shock of fair hair. The shock of sensation as the infant bit down on my nipple sent me back into my body again.

  "I hear you," I whispered, "and when my season comes, I will serve you."

  "You will indeed," the Lady replied, "but there is yet Another whom you must hear—"

  I shivered as the dark draperies that swathed the third figure stirred.

  "I am the nut that clings to the leafless bough," came a whisper like the rubbing of bare branches in the winter wind.

  "I am the waning moon whose sickle harvests the stars

  I am the setting sun

  and the cool wind that heralds the darkness.

  I am ripe with years and with wisdom;

  I see all the secrets beyond the Veil.

  I am Hag and Harvest Queen, Witch and Wisewoman,

  and you will one day belong to Me…"

  That whisper was a wind that whirled my awareness outwards once more. I saw myself older, my garments rent and my cheeks wet with tears, watching a funeral fire. For a moment the flames parted and I glimpsed the fair-haired man. At the pain of that recognition, the scene changed to a hall faced with marble and gold in which I stood, wearing a diadem and a purple robe.

  But before I could wonder what I was doing there, it shifted once more, and I saw myself draped in black, walking the sandy shore beside the sea. I turned from the merciless glitter of sun on water to a landscape of bare rock with the severe, stripped beauty of a skull. It filled me with fear, and yet I knew it was there that I must go.

  And at that, a longing awakened within me for the cool mists and green hills of my own country, and I came to myself once more, sitting upon the grass beside the sacred well.

  "You are the Goddess—" I breathed, "and I will serve You. Only let me end my life here, in Avalon…"

  "Do you ask for compassion?" asked the black-veiled figure. "I have none—only necessity. You cannot escape me, for I am your destiny."

  I sat back, shivering, but mercifully, the Wisewoman did not speak again.

  I had not been aware of the passage of time, but overhead the sky was growing pale, and I could feel in the air the moist chill that heralds the dawn.

  "You have faced the Goddess," said Cigfolla, "and She has accepted your vows. Purified, you shall sit your vigil, and when the day is done, return to the community to be honoured in a celebration. Your new life begins with the rising of the sun."

  Heron helped me to get up, and all the women moved towards the pool below the sacred spring. As the sky lightened, they surrounded it in a protective circle. Heron pulled off my cloak, and as I stood shivering, began to pull off her own robe as well. The other maidens and the younger priestesses were doing the same, and I felt a moment's satisfaction to see that I was not the only one whose skin was pebbling in bumps like a plucked fowl.

  I realized that for some time now birds had been singing, their triumphant chorus calling up the sun from the apple trees. Mist still lay along the ground and hung in the branches, but overhead it was thinning, and the failing torches burned pale in the brightening air. Moment by moment the world was becoming more visible, as if it were only now coming into manifestation. Slowly, the smooth slope of the Tor emerged from mists suffused with rosy light.

  It grew brighter. Heron took my arm and drew me down into the pool. The other young women followed, sea-shells in their hands. I gasped as the cold water touched my skin, and again as the fiery orb of the sun lifted suddenly above the horizon, refracting from each drop of mist and every ripple in the water in a blaze of rosy light. I lifted my arms in adoration, and saw my own pale flesh grow radiant.

  Heron dipped up water and poured it over me, but the fire within me welcomed its icy flame.

  "By the water that is the Lady's blood may you be cleansed," came the murmur of voices as the other maidens did the same. "Now let the water bear away all soil and stains. Let all that hid your true self be dissolved away. Be still, and let the water caress your body, as from the water that is the Womb of the Goddess you are reborn."

  I sank down into the water, and the locks of my unbound hair floated upon the surface, shining like the rays of the sun. A part of my mind knew that the water was cold, but my entire body was tingling as if I bathed in light; I could feel each particle of my flesh being transformed.

  For a timeless moment I floated in the water. Then soft hands were drawing me upwards, and I emerged into the full light of day.

  "Now arise, Eilan, clean and shining, revealed in all your beauty. Arise and take your place among us, Maiden of Avalon!"

  * * *

  CHAPTER THREE

  « ^ »

  AD 265

  It was the end of summer and I was trimming the hazel hedge when something stung my calf. I jumped and turned, striking out instinctively with the branch I had just cut.

  "Ah ha!" Dierna danced backwards, waving the twigs she had snatched from the pile on the path. "Got you!"

  At eight, Dierna's red head blazed like a torch. Two-year-old Becca toddled behind her. I reached out to steady the little one as Dierna dashed away once more, then ran after her, swishing my own branch menacingly, though I suppose I rather spoiled the effect by laughing.

  "Are you watching Becca today?" I asked when all three of us had collapsed, breathless, on the grass.

  "I suppose so," answered the little girl. "She follows me everywhere—"

  I nodded. I had heard the older priestesses talking, and knew that Sian still tired easily. It was inevitable that Dierna should end up with much of the responsibility for her little sister.

  Sian did not seem to be in pain, but her strength waned with each month, and even when the moon grew full once more, it did not return. Ganeda said nothing, but there were new lines in her face. I found myself pitying the older woman, but I knew I was the last person from whom my aunt would accept sympathy.

  Long before I felt ready to get up again, Dierna was bouncing to her feet to run after Becca, whose sturdy legs were already carrying her down the path.

  "There are ducklings in the reed-beds!" exclaimed Dierna. "Come with us and see!"

  "I wish I could," I told her, "but I have promised to finish this hedge before dinner."

  "You have to work all the time!" complained Dierna. She turned, saw Becca disappearing around a corner, and dashed after her.

  For a moment I stood watching as the red head caught up with the brown and the two continued down the path towards the Lake, sparkling in the afternoon sun. Then I sighed and turned back to my work once more.

  When I was a little child, I had envied my older half-brothers their training as warriors. In those days, to whack away with a broken branch at some laughing guardsman had been my favourite game. They had told me tales of Boudicca, whose armies once made the Romans fear, and called me their warrior princess. But my brothers had smiled with male superiority and assured me that the disciplines they were undergoing were far too difficult for a mere girl.

  Sometimes, when I remembered those days, I would wonder whether my brothers could have endured the education I was receiving now. In the three years since the ceremony that welcomed me to womanhood the training of a priestess had ruled my days. True, I still shared some work and classes with the younger girls and the maidens who had been sent to Avalon to learn something of the
old ways before going home to be married. But now I also had other training, and additional duties.

  The girls who were meant to be priestesses sat with the youths being trained by the Druids to memorize endless lists of names and master the elaborate symbols and correspondences by which meaning could be enriched, or disguised. We ran races around the holy isle, for it was held that a vigorous body was necessary to support a strong mind. We were trained in correct use of the voice, and practised as a choir for the ceremonies. And with the initiated priestesses, we maidens took our turns to tend the flame on the altar that was the hearth of Avalon.

  To keep watch in the temple and feed the little fire was not physically demanding. But although meditation was encouraged during the vigil, sleep was forbidden. I loved to sit alone in the round thatched hut on the Maidens' Isle, watching the leaping flame, but now, in the lazy warmth of afternoon, my need for sleep was beginning to catch up with me. I found myself swaying, and stared stupidly at the hazel twig in my hand.

  Better stop before I cut off one of my fingers! I thought, blinking, and bent to set the pruning knife on the ground. The hedge was an old one, and before me, twisted branches formed a natural backrest. It felt natural to curl into it, and in another moment my eyes had closed.

  My lips moved soundlessly. Shelter me for a little while, hazel sister, and I will finish trimming your hair…

  I never knew whether it was some sound from below or a whisper from the hazel hedge itself that woke me. For a moment, still dazed with sleep, I could not think why my heart was thudding with alarm.

  The shadows had lengthened just a little, and the afternoon was warm and still. I glimpsed Dierna's red head near the reedbeds farther along the shore—the girls must be watching the ducklings. Then a closer movement caught my eye. Becca was crawling along the trunk of the old oak tree that had fallen half into the water during the last storm.

 

‹ Prev