Lady of Avalon (24 page)

Brightness flared in the west. The Admiral turned in time to see the edge of the sun showing for a moment like a rim of molten metal above the curve of the hill. As it disappeared, a lesser radiance caught his eye. One of the women had kindled the torches. She lifted them, and for a moment he saw her standing like a goddess with her hands full of light. Then he blinked, and realized it was the youngest of the priestesses, the daughter, they said, of some local king. He had thought her aloof and cold, but now, with the firelight gleaming on her dark hair and her pale skin aglow, she was beautiful.

The High Priestess, her features a mystery behind her veil, fell in behind her, followed by the other two, one carrying a branch of rowan and the other a wand of apple wood hung with chiming silver bells.

“It is now the hour between day and night, when we may walk between the worlds,” came the voice of the Lady Dierna from behind her veil. “The walls you will build here will be made from stone, strong to repel the weapons of men. But we, as we walk, will make another kind of barrier, a shield of the spirit that shall defeat the spirits of your enemies. Bear witness, you who serve Britannia and Rome!”

“I am your witness,” said Carausius.

“And I,” came the lighter voice of Allectus, behind him.

“And I,” Cerialis said solemnly.

Dierna accepted their commitment with a little inclination of the head. Just so, thought Carausius, an empress might acknowledge a service. He supposed that the High Priestess of Avalon must be the equal of an empress, in her own sphere. Was she indeed the woman of his vision? And if so, did she recognize him as well? Her manner to him had been strange; he could not tell if she liked him, or accepted him only by virtue of his position.

But already the priestesses were beginning their circumambulation, turning to the right. Ever more faintly he heard the shimmer of the silver bells.

“How long must we stand here?” asked Cerialis after a time. The priestesses had reached the near left-hand corner and paused to make offerings to the spirits of the land. “I do not know why she wanted our witness. There is nothing to see.”

“Nothing?” whispered Allectus in a shaking voice. “Cannot you feel it? They are singing up a wall of power. Can you not see the shimmer in the air where they pass?”

Cerialis coughed, casting an embarrassed glance at the Admiral as if to say,
He is only a boy, and full of fancies.
But Carausius had seen the Lady of Avalon walking upon the waves. He saw nothing now, but it seemed to him that some other sense was corroborating Allectus’ words.

They waited while the priestesses continued their sunwise progress around to the far end of the rectangle and then came toward them once more. The long twilight of the north drew on, and the colors of the sunset deepened from gold to rose, and from rose to an imperial purple, as if an emperor’s mantle had been drawn across the sky. The procession saluted the near right-hand corner, then moved toward the space where the main gate would one day be.

“Come, you who would hold this place against our enemies!” the Lady cried. For a moment Carausius did not understand. Then he realized she was pointing at him, and started forward. He came to a halt before her. Her face was hidden, but he could feel the intensity of her gaze.

“What will you give, man of the sea, to keep the folk of this land in safety?” Her voice was soft, but it held a weight of meaning that disturbed him.

“I have given my oath to defend the Empire,” he began, but she shook her head.

“This is not a matter for the will, but for the heart,” she said softly. “Will you shed your heart’s blood, if need be, to preserve this land?”

This land…,
he thought. In the years since he had been assigned to the Channel fleet, he supposed, Britannia had won his affection, as a soldier will become fond of any post at which he is stationed for long. But that was not what she was asking of him.

“I was born in a land across the sea, and blessed at my birth in the name of its gods…” he said softly.

“But you have crossed that sea, and been given your life again by the power of the Goddess I serve,” Dierna replied. “Do you remember?”

He stared at her features, seen dimly through the veil as once he had seen them through the storm. “It
was
you!”

She nodded gravely. “And now I claim the price for saving you. Your blood will bind you to this soil. Hold out your arm.”

In her voice was utter certainty, and he, who with one word could send the entire Britannic fleet to sea, obeyed.

Torchlight glinted from the small sickle in her hand. Before he could question, she drew the sharp point across the softer skin inside his arm. He bit his lip at the sting and watched as the dark blood welled from the cut and began to drip onto the ground.

“You feed this earth as she has fed you,” whispered the Lady. “Blood to blood, soul to soul. As you are bound to guard, she is bound to provide, linked by service and destiny…” She looked up at him suddenly, and her voice shook as she went on. “Do you not remember? Your body was bred by the Menapian tribe, who dwell across the sea, but your soul is much older.
You have done this before!
”

Carausius shivered and looked down at the dark spots where his blood had fed the earth. Surely he had seen that before… He took a deep breath, abruptly noticing how the scent of the woods, released by the cooling air, mingled with the scent of the sea. A flicker of vision showed him a high hill crowned with standing stones. Enemies were all around him, Roman soldiers. Blood from his wounds spattered the earth as he swung a shining sword…

Then one of the torches crackled and his consciousness was wrenched back to the present. But he understood now that what he felt for Britannia was something more than dutiful affection. He would defend her now not only out of ambition, but for love.

Dierna motioned to the youngest priestess, the one they called Teleri, who handed her torches to the others. She wiped his arm with a cloth that had been thrust through her belt, her face grave and intent, then bound the wound with a strip of white linen.

The High Priestess drew a sigil above the place where his blood had soaked into the ground. “To those who come in peace, this way shall be ever open,” she chanted, “and ever defended against those who come in war!” She turned to face the east, lifting her arms, and as if in answer, the moon rose over the harbor like a silver shield.

The next day, Cerialis invited the Roman officers to a feast on the shore. Dierna was standing beneath an oak tree, watching his servants set up tables and benches, when the Roman guests arrived. Carausius had dressed to do their host honor in a white military tunic banded with red, his belt and sandals of red-dyed leather ornamented with gilded relief plaques and tags. Today he was instantly identifiable as a Roman commander. But last night, when they blessed the foundations of his fortress, he had looked like a king…

What, she wondered, had that ceremony meant to him? He had not expected her summons, but he had answered it. Indeed, she had not intended to bind him. But when they came to the gateway, the image of the man on the ship and the man who stood watching from the hill had become one, and she had known that it was not stone and mortar that would protect her land, but the blood of those who were sworn to defend it. And now the land knew him, and the gods, but did he himself understand?

Something more was needed, something to make him
want
to do the duty to which he had been bound. Her night had been haunted by dreams of sacred kings and royal weddings. An image surfaced suddenly of torches against a night sky, and an idea came-
Teleri may not like it,
she thought then,
but it will serve.
She did not think to wonder how she herself would feel, seeing the girl as Carausius’ bride.

One of Cerialis’ slaves offered her a basket of berries, to take the edge from her appetite until the feast was served. Nodding, she took one, then touched the boy’s sleeve.

“If there is a time yet to wait, I will walk upon the shore. Go to the Roman Commander and ask if he will escort me.”

As Dierna watched the lad make his way toward the Romans, she reflected that she had not planned this either. But surely this impulse was not her own. Since her vision just before Midsummer, the gods had been leading her; if she opened her spirit to hear them, she must believe that she would be doing their will, not her own.

There was nothing wrong with the Admiral’s manners. He maintained a correct distance between them as they walked slowly toward the water’s edge, not quite touching, but close enough to steady her if she should stumble on the smooth stones. But his eyes were as wary as if he were steering toward some enemy.

“You are wondering what you have gotten into. And you do not trust me,” she said quietly. “It is often so after such a moment. When the excitement fades, doubt creeps in. The morning after my initiation, I wanted to run away from Avalon. Do not fear, nothing was done that affects your honor.”

He raised one eyebrow, and for a moment the hard crags and planes of his face softened. She noted the change with an odd flicker of emotion.
I would like to see him laugh,
she thought.

“It depends on what, exactly, I have sworn to-”

“To defend Britannia, even to death-” she began, but he shook his head.

“That was already my duty. This was something more. Did you work magic to compel me?”

They paced another few steps while Dierna considered. That he should be aware of the power the rite had raised was a good sign, but it meant she must be careful about what she said to him.

“I am no hedge-witch, but a priestess of the Great Goddess, and it would go against my own oaths to bind your will… And yet I believe that you have been bound. By the gods themselves,” she went on, “before we ever met in the flesh.”

“When I saw you through the storm?” Carausius answered. Once more his face changed, not to laughter but to something deeper, almost dread. And once more Dierna felt that odd pang, sharper now, like a blade in her heart. In the ritual she had seen his face overlaid by that of another man, younger, with Roman features and hair. She knew that in that lifetime he had been a sacred king.
But who had she herself been, in that other life so long ago?

“How could a living woman walk upon the waves?”

“My body lay in trance-it was my spirit-shape that you saw, enabled to journey by disciplines that are the Mysteries of Avalon.”

“Druid lore?” he asked suspiciously.

“Wisdom that the Druids preserved, taught to them by those who came before, from the Drowned Lands across the sea. What remains of that knowledge is preserved by my sacred sisterhood. There is still power in Avalon,” she added, “power that could be of great help to you in defending this land. With our help you could know immediately when the raiders strike, and sail to meet them when they turn for home.”

“And how will that help come?” His lips twisted ruefully. “My duties will take me up and down this coast and back and forth across the sea. You cannot spend all your time in spirit form, advising me!”

“It is true that in my own world I have duties that are as demanding as your own. But if one of my people were with you, she could help in some things and, when greater effort was needed, speak in the spirit with me. What I propose is an alliance, and to seal it I will give you one of my priestesses.”

Carausius shook his head. “The Army would not allow me to keep a woman in any official-”

“She will be your wife,” Dierna interrupted. “You are not married, I have been told.”

He blinked, and she saw his sun-reddened skin darken with quick color. “I am a serving officer…” he said, a little helplessly. “Whom did you have in mind for me?”

Inwardly Dierna sighed with relief. “You are no longer accustomed to being commanded,” she said, smiling at him, “and think me very autocratic, I know. But it is your welfare I am thinking of as well as the service of this land. Teleri is the maiden I would give you, the daughter of Eiddin Mynoc. Her birth is high enough so that it will be considered a worthy alliance, and she is beautiful.”

“The one who bore the torches in last night’s ritual?” he asked. “She is fair indeed, but I have scarcely spoken two words to her.”

Dierna shook her head. “I will not compel her into this alliance unwilling. When I have her consent I will speak to her father, and the world will think this has been arranged between you and him in the usual way.”

Teleri might regret leaving Avalon, thought the priestess, but she must surely appreciate the opportunity to become the consort of a man of such proven power. Dierna surveyed the Admiral’s broad shoulders and strong, clever hands with an involuntary quickening of the pulse, and for a moment wished she could have come to him at the Beltane fires.

But Teleri was younger, and more beautiful. She herself would do her duty in Avalon, and Carausius would be happy with Teleri in his arms.

The sky was beginning to cloud over. Teleri wiped her brow with her veil and took a deep breath of the muggy air. The motion of the horse litter that was carrying them along the rough track back to Venta Belgarum made her a little queasy, and the weather was not helping. It would only get worse, she knew, until the tension was released in rain.

At least on the way back she was riding with Dierna. She glanced at the older woman, who sat in balanced stillness, eyes closed as if she were meditating. When they left Portus Adurni, she had rejoiced, for they were on their way to Avalon. But the longer Dierna remained silent, the more tense Teleri grew.