Skin (25 page)

‘The Empire is a living beast.' Ruther sat opposite Fraid in the visitor's place.
He had dressed in his clan tartan to meet with the councillors and looked like a
tribesman again. ‘It follows the urge of all life: to grow. Now it would feed on
this rich ground. The question is, can we turn its hunger to our advantage?'

‘Or should the beast be slain?' Fibor's voice was a growl.

Amid the rumble of agreement, Llwyd rose beside Fraid. ‘Today Ruther has suggested
that we submit to the rule of Rome.'

I flinched at his naked account.

Llwyd waited for the murmurs to subside, before he continued, bracing himself on
his staff. ‘Let me answer that suggestion. Ruther speaks of growth,' he began. ‘None
understand the forces of growth more deeply than the tribes of Albion. In all that
we do, every blessing we call, every bowl of milk we cast upon the ground, every
time we lie down in the fields at Beltane, we proclaim that the Mothers are fruitful.
Their fertile bodies are our country and our knowledge is the seed that ripens them.
Without our rituals, their milk will dry, their wombs will wither, and their song
will not be heard. We do not ask of the Mothers more than what they are able to renew.
Rome's hunger cannot be met. It should not be met. We do not submit to Rome.'

I clutched my jug, quenched by his words.

Most of the councillors were nodding, united in our Journeyman's wisdom. Most but
not all.

‘Should we not at least consider what Ruther tells us?' said Etaina.
‘After all,
he has been where we have not.'

‘I still say they are too fearful to breach our shores,' said Fibor. ‘Let them first
come and then we will talk of clientage.'

‘I agree,' called Orgilos, Ruther's own father. ‘If their fear of this island is
so great that it caused four legions to mutiny, it will take more than one man's
speech to quell it.'

The council murmured its agreement.

‘You are in a world of dreams if you think they will not come, Father,' said Ruther.
‘And if you think we can fight them when they do.'

Fibor's mouth twitched. ‘Ruther, you believe they are the light of the world.'

Ruther met his gaze. ‘If you saw their cities, you would agree with me.'

‘Enough!' Fibor jumped to his feet. ‘He praises our enemies! He calls for our submission!
This will not be tolerated.' He drew his sword.

I took a few steps back. It had to come to this. None sought to stop it.

Both men moved clear of the circle and Ruther drew.

They fought briefly, skilfully, the moonlight catching their flying blades. Fibor
was one of our finest swordsmen but it seemed only moments before he was down on
his back, Ruther's blade at his throat, while his own lay struck to the ground.

Etaina helped her husband to his feet, praising Ruther for sparing his life.

I gathered the cups as the councillors readied to leave in silence.

None would speak against Ruther now.

I recounted all of the day to Bebin, huddled deep in her bedskins, where no one could
hear us. When I had described every detail of
Uaine's costume, his beard and his
bearing, I told her of Ruther's desire that I come to his service.

‘Show caution,' she counselled. ‘The honour of the tribes is slipping from him.'

But she need not have worried. I already knew what I would do.

The earth receives all seeds, all ideas.

The earth is our bridge to truth.

S
TORM
CLOUDS
GATHERED
the next morning and there was talk of heavy rains. Ianna
was my companion to market as Bebin was waylaid skinning a goat. I was glad of it,
for Bebin would have proved a greater barrier to what I had determined must happen
this day.

The stalls were abundant with late summer fruits, and the crowds were anxious to
find the best of them before they turned. ‘Pears or apples? Which should be sweeter?'
mused Ianna, bent over the baskets.

‘It could not concern me less,' I snapped.

She looked at me in surprise. ‘I would have thought I stood with Cah.'

‘Forgive me,' I sighed. I picked out some pears and put them in my basket. The sky
darkened. This was my moment. ‘Ianna, by the look of the clouds there is not much
time until they open. Perhaps you
should finish choosing the fruit and I will search
for Cookmother's powders?'

‘She told us to stay together. She told me to keep you in my sight.'

‘But we will be soaked through if we are not quick,' I urged. ‘I won't be far. I'll
make rose cakes this afternoon,' I added desperately, ‘and you can have the first
one.'

She nodded hesitantly and before she could change her mind, I took my basket and
strode down the tradeway, ducking from sight so she could not follow. I walked through
the medicine sellers, where the crowds were thinner, then out of the stalls and down
to the Cam, unsettled under the grey sky.

Alone finally, I stood close to the bank, feet firm on the grass, and began to breathe
as I was taught by the Mothers of fire, to focus my will, to draw from the veins
of spirit that flowed beneath me. It was hard to concentrate with the sound of the
sellers in the distance and the knowledge that at any moment I might be discovered.
But I stood tall and deepened the call of my breath, and soon the familiar quiver
in my hands and legs told me I had awoken the forces that I sought.

‘Taliesin,' I whispered into the heavy air, ‘come.'

Water lapped at the banks. Nothing else moved.

Taliesin had come to me beyond the forest before. Never this far from its edge, it
was true, but perhaps, if my call was strong enough, he would reach me. And if he
did not, then I would know he was lost to me and Ruther could have his desire, for
I could not breach the Oldforest again.

‘Taliesin,' I whispered again with all my strength. A long rumble of thunder rolled
over the fields, stirring the air with its charge. I glanced to the horizon and,
when I turned back, Neha was bounding upstream, where a figure crouched at the bank.

The pears from my basket fell to the ground as I ran. ‘By the Mothers,' I murmured
into the folds of his shirt. ‘You are here.'

We clung to one another, without words, until my heart felt it would break with happiness.
‘You are breath to me,' I sighed, now shuddering at the thought of Ruther's offer.
Even if I never saw him again, I could love only Taliesin.

He smiled in response but his luminous eyes were ringed with shadows. He was thinner
than I remembered. I curled my fingers around his forearm. It was cold, the sinews
and muscles almost visible through his delicate skin. ‘You are unwell—'

‘No, I—' His words caught.

‘I have little time.' I glanced back to the stalls.

He gave a despondent laugh. ‘Be assured you have longer than I do. It may only be
moments until—'

‘Until what?' I urged.

He looked to the ground.

‘No! Do not turn away from me. Now you must speak, Taliesin. There is no more time
for mystery. Tell me how you are caught and why you cannot walk here freely—quickly,
before I am called away.'

He shook his head. ‘There is nothing to be gained in the telling of it.'

‘You are more stubborn than a goat! I will not endure another day of this. I am living
an agony without you. And now I am wanted by a man of high birth, who offers me more
than any woman without skin may hope for. And I would shun it all for you—who offers
me nothing!'

‘Take it, Ailia. Take his offer.'

I felt my face crumple. ‘Why do you urge me so?'

‘Because we cannot help each other. I thought we could but we cannot. We will only
cause each other sorrow in the attempting of it, and there has been enough of that.
Without skin you can never come.'

‘But you are wrong!' I cried. Thunder rolled, louder now, and the market sellers
began to call the day's close. I clutched his wrists, damp with a cold sweat. ‘Taliesin,
I have
been
to your place. I have walked
with the Mothers.' I almost sobbed with
the relief of speaking it.

He stared at me. ‘It is not possible.'

‘It is true,' I said. ‘They have taught me the fighting arts and given me this.'
I pulled up my skirts to reveal the bone handle above the sword's leather sheath.

Taliesin reached out, brushing the skin of my thigh, then the sword with his fingertips.
He paled as he stared into my face, then light stirred in his black eyes. ‘You have
journeyed.'

‘Yes,' I said, half laughing, half crying. ‘I have the journeywoman's gift.'

Then he was kissing my face and shaking his head in disbelief. ‘I knew it was so,'
he murmured. ‘I knew you would come. Now you will be trained, you will come again…'

‘No.' My smile fell away. ‘I am not to be trained. I have told no one of this. I
cannot. The turn of the seasons fell askew when I returned. Winter was as summer.
I have been warned that a skinless journey can cause immense harm to my people.'
Now it was I who looked to the ground. ‘I have been too afraid to confess it.'

He lifted my face with his hands. ‘You have been called by the Mothers. It is greater
harm if you deny them.'

‘I hear their call, Taliesin. I hear it and feel it, but I do not have enough learning
to answer it.'

‘Precious girl.' He pressed his cool lips to my temple. ‘You must not be frightened.
You must tell your Tribequeen and your wisepeople. You must train so that you can
journey again. For my sake, you must.'

‘Why?' I asked.

The darkening sky flashed with light.

‘So that you can bring me home.'

I watched, frozen, as the skin of his brow moistened with a slick sweat and began
to blister into a ridged texture before my eyes. ‘What ails you?' I gasped.

‘I cannot hold myself here any longer.' He was shivering, his very breath struggling
to come. ‘There are only moments left.'

‘How…how will I tell them?' I was frantic.

‘Your knowledge will tell them. The Mothers will call you again and when they do,
do not deny them—' his eyes began to glaze, ‘—show yourself.'

‘Ailia!' Ianna's voice was shrill in the distance. ‘Where are you?'

‘Hurry.' I wrapped my arms around his neck. ‘Kiss me for luck.'

Rain broke on our faces as I swam in his kiss.

For three days and nights the skies opened. The riverways filled and spilled their
banks. Our drain channels flooded and water seeped through the thatch on our roofs.
Our bedding was sodden and nothing could dry.

Cookmother took ill with the damp. I tended to her constantly, refusing to see Ruther,
who came several times to our door. He left Cad for Rome without an answer from me,
bearing news, no doubt, of Fraid's refusal to make terms.

On the morning of the fourth day, we were trying to stuff dung in the roof leaks
when one of the stablemen burst through the door. ‘Women, quick! There is trouble
streamside. We may need herb lore soon enough.'

Dropping our bowls, we followed him out, our skirts dragging over the muddy ground.
The rain drove down in sheets as we descended the hill.

A great crowd was gathered at the Cam. The banks were breached and a mother stood
too close to the frothing edges. ‘My boy!' she screamed, and though she held one
babe safe in her arms, it was clear there was another in danger.

I grabbed Mael the baker's arm as he passed. ‘What has happened?' I shouted over
the drum of water.

‘A child, swept off the banks. No one has seen him rise.'

Townspeople were shouting, hysterical, along the banks downstream, casting offerings
into the water. I ran toward them.

‘Ailia, come back!' It was Cookmother's shout. She had followed from her bed.

I slowed for a moment but I could not heed her. As I ran, I looked into the water,
thick as cream with the churning mud. I kept running. Beyond where any other looked.
After a few more strides, I stopped. The river was wider now, tangled with reeds.
I closed my eyes. I knew the child was here. I knew the child was alive.

I had to be quick. I tugged off my cloak and sandals and stood at the surging edge.

The crowds had reached me, shouting, questioning why I would enter the water here
when there was nothing within it.

‘Ailia, no—' commanded Cookmother. She halted, gasping for breath, at my side. ‘I'll
not give the life of you to pull out one already gone.'

‘He lives,' I said, readying to jump.

‘You cannot swim!' She tried to restrain me, but I wrenched free from her grasp and
jumped. The water was ice-cold and angry. I braced myself against the force of it,
clutching at reeds, but I could not find the riverbed, nor see anything through the
muddied water.