Lady of Avalon (32 page)

The Empress of Britannia was journeying to Aquae Sulis to bathe in the waters and make offerings to the Goddess there. But Teleri, the woman, sought in those pungent waters healing for her troubled soul. She wondered if she would find it. Dierna had decided to come with her, and even an empress found it impossible to deny the Lady of Avalon. But as her horse litter swayed over the stone bridge across the Avon, Teleri looked up at the wooded hills that rose above the town and felt the beginnings of peace.

The temple precinct had been built in the Hellenic style by the Emperor Hadrian. In its day, thought Teleri as she approached the shrine, it must have been magnificent. But the years had smoothed the stones and faded the frescoes. It seemed to her that this place had become an extension of the Goddess, friendly and comfortable as a gown worn until it takes on its owner’s form.

In the courtyard she paused before the altar opposite the spring and cast a few pinches of incense on the coals. She could feel Dierna beside her, her power hidden behind the veil that covered her like light behind a shade. The priestesses of Sulis had greeted the Lady of Avalon as a colleague, but in this cult she had no authority, and that knowledge gave Teleri a certain satisfaction.

They moved across the courtyard and up the steps of the temple, whose Gorgon guardian glared down from the pediment, surrounded by nymphs. Inside, lamps shone softly on the life-size image of Minerva Sulis, her gilded features gleaming beneath the bronze helm. Despite her martial trappings, her expression was calmly reflective.

Lady,
thought Teleri as she gazed up at her,
can you teach me wisdom? Can you give me peace?
Unbidden, memories came to her of priestesses chanting on the Holy Tor, bathed in the silver radiance of the moon. She had felt the presence of the Goddess then, filling her with light. Here she sensed only an echo of power, and could not tell if the difference lay in the nature of the temple, or in her own soul.

On the second day of her visit, she bathed in the waters. All other visitors had been denied the precinct to give privacy to the Empress and her ladies. Through the colonnade that surrounded the Great Bath she could see the courtyard and the altar where she had worshipped the day before. Light refracted from the water and glimmered on the timbered ceiling; a haze of moisture from the heated pool in the next chamber veiled its shadows in mystery. The water was tepid, and one soon became accustomed to the sulfur smell. Teleri lay back, letting it support her, and tried to relax. But she could not forget the unhappiness she had seen in her husband’s eyes when she left him, and the pain, equal in intensity if different in cause, in those of Allectus. It seared her soul to see them at odds.

Presently the priestess of Sulis instructed them to move to the hot pool, fed, like the others, from the sacred spring, but heated by a hypocaust. Teleri gasped at the heat, but Dierna was stepping down into the pool as eagerly as if it had been the lake of Avalon; she bit her lip and forced herself to follow. For a time, then, she could think of nothing but her body’s reactions. She felt her heart begin to pound, and sweat started from her brow.

Just when she thought she would faint, their guide assisted her to climb out and escorted her to the frigidarium, whose chill waters seemed scarcely cold at all. Then, with every nerve tingling and the blood humming in her veins, she was allowed to return to the Great Bath. The extremes in temperature had both stimulated and exhausted her. This time she found it easy to sink into a mindless reverie.

“This is the womb of the Goddess,” said Dierna softly. “The Romans call her Minerva, and those who came before them, Sulis. To me, she comes as Briga, Lady of this land. When I float in these waters, I am returned to my source and renewed. I thank you for allowing me to accompany you.”

Teleri turned to her, brows lifting. But she told herself that such a courteous comment deserved an answer. “You are very welcome. I cannot claim such lofty meditations, but there is peace here.”

“There is peace in Avalon as well. I am sorry now that I sent you away from it. My purpose was worthy, but it was a hard fate for one unwilling. I should have found another way.” Dierna lay half floating in the green water, her long hair spiraling around her face in bronze curls, her full breasts, nipples darkened by childbearing, breaking the surface.

Teleri’s amazement became complete. She had sacrificed three years of her life, and now her mentor was suggesting it had not been necessary after all? “You gave me to understand that the fate of Britannia depended on my cooperation. What other way could there be?”

“It was wrong to bind you by a marriage such as is made between any Roman citizens.” Dierna stood up, water streaming from her hair. “I did not understand then that Carausius was destined to be a king, and must be mated to a sacred queen in the old way.”

“Well, it is done now, and past mending-” Teleri began, but the priestess shook her head.

“Not so. To bind the Emperor to the ancient Mysteries is even more important now, when he is tempted to follow other ways. You must bring him to Avalon, Teleri, and perform the Great Rite with him there.”

Teleri stood up so swiftly that the water rolled away from her in a great wave. “I will not come!” she hissed. “By the Goddess of this sacred spring I swear! You cast me out from Avalon, and I will not come running just because you changed your mind. Work what magic you please on Carausius, but the earth will shake and the heavens will fall before I come crawling back to you!”

She splashed toward the stepped edge of the pool, where slaves waited with towels. She could feel Dierna’s gaze upon her, but she did not look back again.

When Teleri woke the next morning, they told her that the Lady of Avalon had gone. For a moment she felt a pang of loss. Then she remembered what had passed between them, and was glad. Before the noon meal, trumpets announced another arrival. It was Allectus, and she was too glad to see him to ask why he was not with the Emperor. The tree-clad hills around Aquae Sulis had become a prison to her. Suddenly she was homesick for the rolling hills above Durnovaria and the sight of the sea.

“Take me to my father’s house, Allectus!” she cried. “Take me home!” The hot blood rose and fell in his face, and he kissed her hand.

When the seas calmed with the coming of a new year, a liburnian flying Constantius’ pennant rounded the Isle of Tanatus and beat up the estuary of the Tamesis to Londinium. The scrolls she carried bore a simple message. Diocletian and Maximian Augustus called upon Carausius to renounce his usurpation of the province of Britannia and return to his allegiance. He was summoned to Rome for trial. If he refused, he must prepare to face their wrath, with all the power of the Empire behind it.

The Emperor of Britannia sat in his office in the Governor’s Palace in Londinium, gazing down at Diocletian’s message with unseeing eyes. He no longer needed to read it-he had memorized the words. Within the palace all was silence, but from outside there came a murmur like lapping waters, which periodically swelled to a storm.

“The people are waiting,” said Allectus, who was sitting nearer to the window. “They have a right to be heard. You must tell them what you intend to do.”

“I hear them,” answered Carausius. “Listen-their noise is like the roar of the sea. But I understand the ocean. The men of Londinium are far more fickle, and more dangerous. If I resist this demand, will they stand behind me? They cheered when I assumed the purple. I have brought them prosperity. But I fear they will greet my conqueror with equal enthusiasm if I fall.”

“Perhaps,” Allectus said evenly, “but you will not win them by indecision. They want to believe that you know what you are doing; that their homes and livelihood will be safe. Tell them that you will defend Londinium and they will be satisfied.”

“I want more than that. I want it to be true.” Carausius pushed back his chair and began to pace across the mosaic floor. “And I do not think that purpose will be served by camping across the Dubris road with my army and waiting for Constantius to come.”

“What else can you do? Londinium is the heart of Britannia, from which its lifeblood flows, or why else did you establish a mint here? It must be protected.”

Carausius turned to face him. “The entire land must be protected, and seapower is the key to defending her. Even strengthening the forts of the Saxon Shore is not the answer. I must take the battle to my enemy. He must not be allowed to land so much as a single legionary on these shores.”

“You will go to Gallia?” asked Allectus. “Our people will think you are abandoning them.”

“The sea base of Gesoriacum is in Gallia. If Constantius takes it, our forward defense is lost-and with it the shipyards, and the supply lines that link us to the Empire.”

“And if you lose?”

“I beat them before…” Carausius stood still, fists clenching.

“Your fleet was fresh from fighting the Saxons then, at the peak of its efficiency,” observed Allectus. “Now half your marines are in the north reinforcing the garrisons on the Wall. Will you call on your barbarian allies?”

“If I must-”

“You must not!” Now Allectus was on his feet as well. “You have given up too much to them already. If you win by their aid they will want more. I am as dedicated as you are to maintaining Britannia in freedom, but I would rather be ruled by Rome than by Saxon wolves!”

“You are being ruled by a Menapian now!” Carausius could hear his own voice rising and fought for control. “Britannia’s governors have come from Gallia and Dalmatia and Hispania; the Legions that defend you bear foreign names.”

“Perhaps they were born barbarians, but they have been civilized. They recognize that this is a Celtic land. The Saxons care only to fill their bellies. Their breed will never take root in British soil.”

Carausius sighed, remembering how the priestess had shed his blood to feed the land. “I will go south, where the people still remember how I saved their homes, and raise men to sail with me to Gesoriacum. You understand these merchants of Londinium, Allectus. Stay here and rule in my place while I am gone.”

A swift, unexpected flush came and went in the younger man’s sallow cheeks. Carausius wondered why. Surely, after all this time, Allectus must know how the Emperor trusted him. But there was no more time to worry about anyone’s feelings. He opened the door and called for his clerk, already marshaling the instructions that must be given before he could depart.

On the Tor, the beginning of summer was customarily set aside for dyeing the skeins of flax and wool that had been spun during the long winter. It was the tradition also for the Lady of Avalon to assist in the labor. The reason given was that she might thereby set an example for the maidens, but it had always seemed to Dierna that the custom had been retained because by the time one became high priestess the task of preparing the dye and dipping the yarn was a welcome diversion from her other responsibilities. Not that the work was simple-to mix the dyestuffs correctly and time the immersion to produce just the right shade of blue required experience and a good eye. Ildeg was their dyemistress, and Dierna was content to work under her direction.

Several skeins of wool already swung, dripping, from the branches of the willow tree behind her, its bark still faintly stained from having served the same purpose the year before. Farther along the bank of the stream other cauldrons were steaming. Ildeg walked from one to another, making sure that all was done correctly. Little Lina, who was assisting Dierna, brought two skeins and laid them on the mat, then added another piece of wood to the fire. It was important to keep the liquid simmering without allowing it to boil.

Dierna hooked up one of the skeins and lowered it carefully into the pot. The dye was woad, in this light as deep a blue as the waves of the open sea. She had only once been out of sight of the land, when Carausius took her out into the Channel on his flagship. He had laughed at her ignorance and said she needed to understand the waters that protected her beloved isle. She looked into the cauldron and saw the sea once more, her dipper creating the currents that flowed through it, and the white froth on the waves.

Carausius might be at sea even now, she thought, fighting his battle. Word had come that he was on his way to Gesoriacum with every ship he could command. But he had not taken Teleri, and even if the priestess had seen something in vision that would be helpful, without another trained priestess to receive the message, or the ritual of preparation and the sacred herbs to increase her own power, she had no way to communicate what she saw. She had not expected to care so much whether she knew what was happening.

“Pull the wool out now, my dear, or it will be too dark.” Ildeg’s voice startled Dierna back to awareness of the present. She lifted the skein and carried it, steaming, to the willow tree, and Lina went off to get more.

Dierna took a deep breath before dipping the next one, for the acrid fumes from the dyepot could be dizzying, then carefully lowered it into the deep-blue sea… A leaf fell and drifted in lazy circles on the surface. The priestess started to lift it, then dropped the dipper with a soft cry. It was not a leaf, but a ship, with a dozen more around it, appearing and disappearing through the swirling steam. She gripped the rim of the pot, unaware of the heat that seared her palms, and bent closer, desperate to see.

Her vision was as that of a seabird, circling the ships that battled below. She recognized
Orion
and some of the others. Even if she had not known them by sight, she would have known them by the speed and agility with which they moved. The remaining ships-bigger, heavier, and more clumsily handled-must be the Roman enemy. Behind them she could make out a long sandspit; the engagement was taking place inside a great harbor, where the British superiority in ship handling gave little advantage. How had Carausius allowed himself to be trapped this way? His fight against Maximian’s Armorican fleet had been a test of seamanship, but as one Roman after another managed to grapple and board her victim, it became clear that this battle would be won by brute force, not skill.

Flee!
her heart cried.
You cannot win here, you must break free!
Dierna strained downward; for a moment she saw Carausius clearly, a bloody sword in his hand. He looked up. Had he seen her? Had he heard? Then a tide of red rolled across her vision. The sea was turning to blood! She must have screamed, for in the next moment she heard voices calling her name as if from a great distance, and felt soft hands pulling her away.

“It’s red…” she whispered. “There is blood in the water-”

“No, Lady,” answered Lina, “the dye in the water is blue! Oh, my Lady, look at your hands!”

Dierna gasped at the first pulse of pain. Then the others were gathering around her, and in the tumult of dressing her wounds, no one thought to ask her what she had seen.

The next morning she summoned Adwen to pack for her, and Lewal and one of the younger Druids to escort her, and the men of the marshes to pole them through the mists to the outer world. There was that in her manner that defied questioning, but in any case she dared not speak of her vision, if indeed it had been a true Seeing and not a fancy born of her fears. If Carausius had been defeated, either he himself or word of his death would come first to Portus Adurni, and it was there that she must go. If he lived, he would need her help. She had to know.

The journey took them a week of hard traveling. By the time they reached Venta Belgarum, Dierna’s hands were healing and one anxiety had been replaced by another. Bad news spread like the wind, and all of the west country knew that a great battle had taken place at Gesoriacum. Throughout one night Dierna tossed sleepless, too anxious even to seek him on the spirit-roads, not knowing if Carausius had survived.

In the morning more news followed: the flagship had made it home with the Emperor on board, but the ships that followed him were pitifully few. The fleet that had struck fear into the hearts of the Saxons was lost, along with most of the men who had manned it, and Constantius Chlorus was gathering a force to invade Britannia. Everywhere men were murmuring. Men who had profited under the rebel regime feared to lose all they had gained. Others shrugged, unconcerned at the prospective change of masters, or speculated on the rewards in store for those who helped the invaders.

But whatever the Romans did about the others, if Constantius conquered there would be no mercy for Carausius. Dierna’s pony tossed its head and broke into a trot as she urged it forward.

The air at Portus Adurni seemed heavy, despite the fresh wind off the sea. Dierna thought that she would have known there was trouble even if she had not heard the rumors. The atmosphere in the fortress was not yet that of defeat, but she could almost taste the apprehension. It was significant that the officer in charge made no objection when she asked to see the Emperor. She was a civilian, with no business on a military post in what would soon become a war zone. But it was clear that the forces Carausius retained were desperate enough to welcome even whatever nebulous help a native witchwoman might bring.

He was leaning on a table on which a map of Britannia had been spread, moving chips of wood back and forth as he calculated movements and dispositions. There was an ugly gash on his cheek and a bandage around one calf. For a moment Dierna stood in the doorway, so weak with relief at the sight of him that she could not move. Then, though she had made no sound, he looked up.

“Teleri?” he whispered. Dierna took a step forward, turning so that the light fell full upon her. Carausius blinked, the hope that had for a moment animated his face giving way to something else, perhaps fear.

Why should I be surprised?
she told herself, willing her pounding heart to slow.
I wanted him to love her. I should not have come…
But he was already moving toward her.

“Lady,” he said harshly, “have you come to prophesy good fortune or despair?” His gaze had steadied, but it was the calm of a man who wills himself to face his doom. Was that what she was to him? She bit her lip, realizing that was all she had allowed herself to be.

“Neither. I came to help you if I can.”

He frowned, thinking. “You have come swiftly if you were on Avalon. Or did Teleri send-” As she shook her head she saw the sorrow, swiftly veiled, in his eyes.

“Is she not here with you?”

“She is in Durnovaria, with her father.” There was a short silence.

Now it was Dierna’s turn to frown. It had been clear, at Aquae Sulis, that Teleri was unhappy. But the situation must be worse than she thought.
She blames me for it,
she realized then.
That is why she would not talk to me.
But there was nothing she could do about Teleri right now. Suppressing her unease, she came to his side and looked down at the map.

“Where do you think Constantius will land, and what forces can you bring to meet him?”

“His first concern must be to take Londinium,” said Carausius. She could see that to discuss the problem gave him a measure of comfort. It was action, of a sort, and this was not a man to accept his fate meekly, as the Christian priests enjoined their followers.