The Dawn Stag: Book Two of the Dalriada Trilogy (6 page)

Calm down!
she told herself, almost laughing aloud. Then she realized she ought to try to be serious, and so she folded her hands together. The most important part of freeing the sight was the priestess breathing, which centred mind and body into one flowing whole. It certainly would not be summoned by a pounding heart and heaving chest. So Rhiann closed her eyes and bit her lip in concentration, striving to subdue her pulse.

First, she took charge of her breath: one slow inhalation down to her feet, then up out of the crown of her head. Gradually, the breathing took up a rhythm of its own, and that in turn quietened the riot of her blood, until Rhiann began to feel the edges of herself merging more naturally with the steady glow of the moon on her skin.

When Rhiann was calm enough, she sprinkled the flowers on the water, murmuring her invocation to the spirit of the spring, and sent the ring spinning into the darkness of the pool. Then she sat for a moment longer, letting the slight undercurrent take the flowers out to the pool’s edges, and using her breathing to expand the silver cord that ran through her body, anchoring spirit to flesh.

With each breath, so her spirit cord swelled and brightened, until it seemed behind her closed eyes that she was a fluid stream of moonlight, like a cup, overflowing … That was how she’d always felt, when the Goddess came to her as a child. As she remembered this, warm relief began to course through her veins alongside the silver light.

‘Great Mother,’ she murmured. ‘Moon on the Water, Lady of the Three Faces, your daughter comes to you in love. If it be Your will, may Your light this night be revealed to me, illuminating what is darkness. By Your grace, so shall it be.’

Now Rhiann fixed in her mind what she most needed to see:

…
the sun glancing off bright Roman helmets; the swirl of red cloaks; the ranks of painted Roman shields
…

… and her breath stilled as she leaned out over the pool, her eyes closed, muttering the prayers under her breath …

… the eagle standards held aloft in rows; the blast of foreign trumpets; the harsh cries of men
…

… and somewhere inside, with the softness of a sigh, she opened her soul and surrendered all will so that she could see at last; really see …

She hadn’t even opened her eyes when it hit.

A bright flood of images erupted from inside her:
a man running at her with his sword raised, his black hair dripping seawater into dark, burning eyes. She felt herself rear back, stifling a cry, and turned desperately to run away. Yet she had just reached the hillside when a bruising hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her down … and then there were three of them, their eyes feverish with lust … and a greasy beard suffocating her, and a crushing weight across her chest, and callused hands closing around her neck, and the pain … the pain …

She screamed, as she had not been able to do then, and screamed again, and suddenly something took hold of her shoulders and Rhiann arched and flung herself backwards. The impact of her body jarring the ground shocked her eyes open, and abruptly the harsh daylight of that awful day was gone.

It was night again, and Rhiann was sprawled in the middle of the birch clearing, wet grass soaking through her dress. Above her, Linnet hovered on her knees, trying desperately to take Rhiann in her arms.

‘I am sorry, child … I am sorry but I heard you scream and I ran, and you wouldn’t answer …’ Linnet’s face swam over Rhiann in a confused blur of silver and shadow stripes, as Rhiann, still fighting the terror, clawed her hands away. Something still felt tight around her neck; she gagged and coughed and fought for breath.

‘I had to shake you to bring you back,’ Linnet whispered. ‘I had to. You were strangling yourself.’

Suddenly Rhiann became aware of the bruised ache around her throat, and she coughed again, blinking her eyes to clear her sight. Linnet’s arms closed again, seeking to rock her. ‘You were speaking what you saw … what you felt …’ Linnet’s voice broke, and hot tears fell on Rhiann’s cheeks. ‘Oh, Mother … my child …’

Dazed, Rhiann fought her way free of the enveloping folds of Linnet’s priestess cloak. Blood roared in her ears, and she had to fight to draw in enough breath. Then her eye fell on the stones of the pool, the scent of the blooms sweet in her nose, and she suddenly realized what had happened – and what had not.

‘
No
.’ Rhiann staggered to her feet, glancing wildly around the clearing, which now echoed with the evil memories she had conjured, violating the sacred space. The moon’s grinning face mocked her from above. ‘No,’ she whispered in anguish, and then she sank slowly to her knees. It had not worked. There had been no Goddess, only her own poisoned mind.
I cannot bear it
.

‘Rhiann.’ Linnet’s hand was gripping her shoulder. ‘It was a memory of the raid, that is all. It cannot hurt you now, my child. I will hold you through it as I did before—’

‘It’s not that,’ Rhiann choked out. ‘I thought in the circle that She had forgiven me, that I was Hers again.’ Rhiann’s shoulders shook, and she curled tighter around her heart. ‘All this time … since those men … She has turned her back on me and I cannot feel Her any more!’

Linnet was grasping Rhiann as if she could press her within her own body. ‘Child, you are a Goddess daughter, that can never change.’

‘No!’ Rhiann wrenched herself back and fell on her haunches, turning her face away with shame. ‘I thought … in the Stones … it was
over
.’

She was barely conscious of Linnet’s touch on her back. ‘I don’t understand.’ Linnet’s voice trembled. ‘I have stood by you at the rites. You hold the Mother’s energy and let it flow for the people. I felt it touch them.’

‘For the people,
for the people
,’ Rhiann whispered harshly. ‘She comes to speak to
them
, to touch and love
them
, but not to me alone, when I call Her. Never
me
.’

Once, she could feel the Goddess like a light spilling into her from above. Once, she could hear Her like a real voice in her mind. Once she was sent visions of what was, and would be – the brightest, the best among the Sisters. But no more. The thread of light that joined her to earth and heavens was severed, and had not been mended at all. How could she have thought any different?

‘It’s not over,’ Rhiann found herself murmuring brokenly. ‘Because of what I did. It has not been repaid.’

‘Did, daughter?’ Linnet was breathing in her ear. ‘Of what do you speak?’

Rhiann’s whole body was trembling, her teeth chattering in shock as she bowed her head. ‘I … I was so proud of my gifts, my powers … and … I should have seen the raiders coming, and found a way to stop it happening.’ Her words were a whisper on the night air. ‘But I did not … and they … they died … and because I failed them the Goddess turned Her face from me.’

Rhiann’s words were swallowed by the silence that fell, yet she would not look up, for her breast burned with shame. Shame for how she had failed her foster-family; shame that she had never yet shared … least of all with Linnet, who thought her so bright, so strong.

But then Linnet’s hands were cradling Rhiann’s bent head, stroking her hair, her shoulders, firm and gentle at the same time. ‘Child of my heart, their deaths could never be laid at your door; you never failed anyone.’

At those words, Rhiann gave a shudder in Linnet’s arms. ‘Then why am I exiled from Her grace? I am punished!’

‘No.’ Linnet struggled to raise Rhiann’s face, to reach through her pain, brushing her cold tears away. ‘It is the grief of the raid that blocks you, child, the pain of what those animals did. You will heal and regain what you have lost.’

Slowly, Rhiann shook her head, staring out at the dark, rustling trees over Linnet’s shoulder. ‘I must find Her again, and prove myself worthy. I thought … I thought surrendering to Eremon’s love was the key, but it is not … my love is not enough.’ Rhiann’s mouth spasmed with despair, and Linnet pressed desperate lips to her forehead.

‘The Goddess is love, not judgement,’ Linnet whispered. It is pain that shrouds you, that is all.’

‘That is not all, it cannot be all.’ With aching muscles, Rhiann drew herself to her feet, swaying a little, wiping her wet cheeks with harsh fingers. ‘There is more I must do. To atone.’

Linnet slowly rose. The chill of the night air was now creeping beneath the folds of Rhiann’s wool dress, and the pool was wreathed in mist. She sensed Linnet’s distress reaching out to her across the clearing, yet her aunt made no move forward.

After a long moment of silence Linnet’s shoulders slumped, her head bowing, and the energy cradling Rhiann suddenly seemed to dim. In the cold space it left she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Her heart was cloven, and desperately she realized she must force the edges back together now. For if they spilled open, all the pain of all the years would bleed out, and there would be nothing left. She must gain control …

Her breath rattling in her chest, Rhiann turned and looked out at the dark woods, seeking to contain the despair, the disappointment, the
abandonment
in a shell of numbness. That had worked before, and enabled her to keep going. She had to cling to her mind, to protect her heart.

Abruptly, she was arrested by a thought from the deep recesses of her mind.
I must find a way to earn Her favour … but I have not gone far enough … loving Eremon was not enough
…

In desperation Rhiann grasped at the thought, and hung on. As the failure was great, so the task she had to fulfil must be greater still. And it had been given to her long ago; she’d known all along how important it was. She did not realize she had spoken aloud until Linnet took a step closer. ‘A task, child? What task?’

Rhiann spun to face her, strength flowing back into her limbs. ‘My vision, aunt, my dream! Over the years it has changed, but it has been there since I was a child, calling me.’

‘You never told me of a dream.’ Linnet’s face was in shadow, the moonlight a sheen on her hair.

‘I thought you would think me proud – that, or mad!’ Rhiann’s hand floated towards Linnet, then clenched by her side, the words rushing out like an undammed stream. ‘I will tell you. I am in a valley of light, and all the people of Alba are around me. Eagles cry from the mountains above, bringing danger – they are the Romans, you see. Yet I stand in the valley, cupping the cauldron of the goddess Ceridwen, gathering the Source so that it will drive back the eagles, the shadows, protecting my land and people.’

Rhiann paused for a moment, savouring the feeling of the Source that resounded through her dream, the light that ran through all things and connected all worlds. In life she had to struggle to feel it, but in that dream it poured from her hands. ‘By my side a man stands with a great sword; the protector to vanquish the eagles – I have seen his face now and know he is Eremon. And we have been charged by Her to bring the Source into balance and guard it for all the people – by ridding Alba of the Romans.’

Linnet stepped closer, taking hold of Rhiann’s arms above the elbow. ‘You should have told me.’

Rhiann swallowed. ‘I would not allow myself to believe it for so long, but then Declan was sent a vision about Eremon, and it was the same, and that is why I gave Eremon my support for the alliance. Before … before I gave him my heart.’

Linnet’s sigh clouded the chill air, and Rhiann clutched at her hand. ‘This is what is drawing me, aunt, don’t you see?
This
is the message: I must fulfil that task first, out of love and duty for the people and my land. And once I have proven myself worthy, then I know I will also find my true self once more. I
know
it is the path back to Her.’

The words swelled with a desperate longing. Disentangling her grip, Linnet gently stroked the side of Rhiann’s face with her hand. The night wind soughed through the trees, blowing shadows across her features, making them unreadable. ‘Much of your path is dark before me, as it has always been, yet this dream does hold some sense of truth.’

Rhiann breathed a harsh sigh of relief. ‘You see?’ She wiped her eyes and cheeks with both palms, raking back the hair that had blown free from its braids. ‘It is the answer, aunt, it is what I must do. The pain came to remind me, to make my path even clearer … that’s what it was.’

Now Linnet cupped both of Rhiann’s cheeks, staring down at her, unmoving. Since the day Rhiann told Linnet the truth of the raid, they had often read each other’s thoughts. Yet now it was as if Linnet’s mind was shuttered. There was only the warmth of her hands, a steady glow on Rhiann’s skin.

‘Come.’ Linnet’s voice was tinged with a strange distance. ‘The night grows late and chill, and you need your strength. Let me brew you a gentle sleeping draught, to keep your dark memories at bay.’

Long after moonset, Linnet remained awake, watching Rhiann in her bed by the faint glow of the coals.

Nothing moved in that darkened room but the shadows and her hand, softly stroking Rhiann’s forehead to soothe her down into sleep. In the firelight, Rhiann’s pale skin gleamed, her hair a dark spill over the linen pillow. Her eyes were closed, and one hand was tucked up under her chin, in the same way she had slept as a baby.

Dercca’s snores floated from behind the other wicker screen, but Linnet ignored them and listened closer to Rhiann’s breathing. She would keep vigil for her daughter until Rhiann was truly asleep.

Outside, the wind had risen, scraping the branches of the young oak tree in the yard against the mud walls. But inside all was still and warm, and at last Rhiann’s breathing changed, sliding into the slower cadence of deep, healing sleep. As it did, Linnet’s hand stilled.

After a moment she rose, stirring up the coals to flame before sinking onto her hearth-bench. And only there, alone, did she allow her shoulders at last to bow, as she buried her face in her hands. A sob choked her throat, but she would not give in to it. For that was the crown of her burden. Rhiann could not know that Linnet carried it, or how heavy it had grown. So heavy, so painful that she felt it might tear her heart apart.