Skin (27 page)

‘Do you know anything of your people?' Sulis asked me. ‘What hope is there of learning
your skin?'

‘I…I was left newly born at the time of the Gathering. I know nothing of my people.'

‘Still,' said Sulis, ‘if anyone knows your story, then this news may call them forth…'

‘Will you train her?' pressed Llwyd.

I was taut with hope, as Sulis sat, deep in thought, before me.

‘If the Mothers so mark her, I have no choice.' She gripped her staff with both hands.
‘I will take her to the Isle,' she said, ‘though I am unsure of it.'

Llwyd squeezed my shoulder.

I said nothing, but my heart was exploding like a rising sun.

Llwyd looked to Fraid. I was under her queendom. The final decision would always
be hers. ‘This is greatly unexpected,' she said, ‘and yet somehow I am not surprised.'
She smiled at me. ‘Perhaps we should drink some ale…'

I went to serve from the heavy flagons on the shelves near the door, but Fraid rose
first and motioned that I remain seated. She poured four cups of the dark syrup and
handed one to each of us. When she came to me, she paused, then held the cup forward
for me to take. Of all that had occurred today, this was the strangest.

I sipped the fragrant ale and it rolled, heavy and sweet, down my knotted throat.
We drank in quietness. Outside, a pig squealed and I heard the laughter of young
men, for whom today was like any other. Slowly, the joy began to seep into my body.
I would be further trained. I would gain the learning to journey to Taliesin.

‘When will you take her, Sulis?' asked Llwyd.

‘Tomorrow. While the skies still favour travel.'

‘Tomorrow?' I yelped before I could halt it. ‘I cannot leave Cookmother so soon.'

Sulis frowned. ‘This call is an honour above honours, especially for one without
skin.' Her voice was hard. ‘Your kitchen tasks are of no consequence now.'

I nodded, beginning to falter. In all my yearning to be taught, this was a truth
I had not thought of. ‘When will I return to Caer Cad?'

‘You will not leave the temple until your training is complete,' said Sulis. ‘Three
summers at the fewest, almost certainly more.'

‘Cookmother cannot work the kitchen without me for such a time.'

Fraid smiled as she sipped her ale. ‘It would seem that your days in the kitchen
are finished, Ailia.'

‘And when you return, you will be sought on matters of Ceremony and judgment,' said
Llwyd. ‘Your Cookmother would find you a most unreliable kitchen girl.'

I looked around at the three faces staring at me, the most powerful tribespeople
of Summer. It was almost unbearable to be so revealed. I had been given a gift beyond
imagining, and yet I had to face a future bereft of all I had known.

‘Are you doubting the call of the Mothers, Ailia?' said Sulis. She looked to Llwyd.
‘She is weak enough without skin. If she is not firm in her conviction, I cannot
take her.'

Llwyd crouched before me. ‘Ailia.' His voice was kind yet unwavering. ‘If this sword
speaks truly, then you are the woman who has been chosen to hear the first songs
of our tribelands. To bring them back. We face an invasion of people who threaten
to sever our ties with the Mothers. You alone can keep them close.'

‘What is your response, girl?' said Sulis. ‘Will you answer this call?'

I was held in Llwyd's gaze. Its brown depths stirred up drifts of courage in the
riverbed of my ambition. ‘Yes.'

‘It is decided then.' Sulis pounded her staff. ‘But hear this, girl—' Her eyes hardened
and there was no more gentleness in them. ‘You are marked to be our highest wisewoman
and I will see that you are trained to this purpose. But with or without the sword,
until you find skin, you will never be Kendra.'

I walked back to the kitchen as if in a dream. Manacca and the stable-hands who passed
me glanced at my sword that hung, now exposed, from my belt. Never before had I felt
myself to be of such consequence. I had craved the chance to be taught but now it
had come, I saw what safety there was in unknowing. What peace. How could I be the
Kendra? I anchored my fears with thoughts of Taliesin. I would see him soon.

Cookmother sat alone in the kitchen, spinning flax by a dying fire. She turned to
me as I entered, her eyes dropping to my sword.

‘It is the Kendra's sword,' I stammered.

‘I know.'

I wondered how she could know it, when even Fraid had not.

‘Are you to go to the Isle?' she asked.

‘Yes.'

She did not respond.

‘Why do you let the fire burn so low?' I chastised, striding across the floor to
refuel it.

‘When will Sulis take you?'

‘Tomorrow.'

She whimpered as if physically struck. ‘Beloved girl.'

I stared at her. How could I leave her? ‘Would you have me stay?'

‘It is not for me to speak against the call of the Mothers.' She turned the spindle
slowly and would not meet my eye.

‘But I cannot go without your blessing.'

Then I saw her stiffen. ‘Do not be stupid, girl. You are going. My blessing has little
to do with it.'

Before I could argue, Bebin, Ianna and Cah burst through the doorskins and the kitchen
was filled with shrieks and tears at my news. There was talk enough about my Isle
training, but questions of my sword were left unasked. A Kendra had been chosen yet
could not rise without skin. None could fathom the Mothers' intentions.

When the hour for sleep fell, we were all kept awake by Cookmother's cough.

I rose and boiled herbs to soothe her.

Ianna tried to assist me but Cookmother would not permit it.

‘Only you, Ailia,' she whispered as I held the cup to her mouth. ‘Only you.'

When she finally slept, I lay down next to Bebin.

‘Will you care for Cookmother?' I whispered into her ear. ‘Cah is too unfeeling and
Ianna too daft. It is only you I can trust.'

‘No harm will come to her until you return.'

My eyes drifted closed. ‘Have you seen Uaine?'

‘Yes.' I heard the smile in her voice.

‘Ruther bade him return to the east, but he has decided to stay.'

‘But are they not the firmest of companions?'

‘Something has come between them. Uaine would not say what it was.'

Early the next morning, Sulis sent word that we were to leave the following dawn.
I began my last day in Caer Cad sowing parsnip seeds
in the kitchen garden, the topsoil
warm and crumbly between my fingers. Cookmother worked wordlessly by my side until
the chime of our doorbell pulled her, grumbling, back to the kitchen.

Footsteps approached, but my gaze stayed fixed on the ground, lulled by the scooping
and sprinkling of seeds. ‘Who breaks our peace at this early hour?' I asked, expecting
Cookmother.

‘A thoughtless journeyman,' said an old man's voice.

‘Journeyman Llwyd!' I scrambled to my feet to bow. ‘Why did you not announce yourself?'

‘No need. Continue—' He motioned to the garden. ‘I'll work with you a moment.' He
knelt beside me and began to dig. His hands reminded me of Taliesin's, fine-boned
and long-fingered, weaving through the soil like needles through cloth. ‘How are
you bearing this Kendra's cloak that falls to your shoulders?'

‘I will wear no Kendra's cloak without skin. This is what Sulis has said—'

‘The Mothers are mischievous. They toy with us in choosing you. But they have called
you. They will give you your skin.'

‘But the Mothers of fire said nothing of my skin.' I said.

A frown crossed his face, then he shrugged. ‘The others will help you.'

‘The others?'

He smiled. ‘I forget how little you know. There are twelve circles of Mothers. Each
keeps its own knowledge.'

My eyes widened. ‘Will I meet with them all?'

‘You will be called only by the Mothers whose knowledge you do not already possess.'

‘Then that will certainly be all of them.'

‘We shall see.'

I nodded, unsure. It was all still barely true, a poet's tale I was hearing at feast.

Llwyd sensed my hesitance. ‘When I was first called to the Island of Mona to train,
I was scared to my under-robes.'

I looked up. ‘You?'

‘And why not? I was just a son of a silversmith before I became this towering greatness
you see before you.'

I laughed. Here, stooped in the garden, Llwyd mocked himself, but I had seen him
summon forces that came from the most disciplined learning. He was indeed towering.
Indeed great. In confessing his fear, he began to dispel mine. ‘There is still one
thing that holds me…' I faltered.

‘What is it? You must be free of any doubt—'

‘Cookmother.' I glanced back nervously for her return. ‘She does not offer her blessing,
and I cannot embark without it.'

Llwyd sighed. ‘There is a reason your Cookmother withholds her blessing and it is
time you knew it.'

I stared at him. ‘Will you now tell it?'

‘I cannot. You must ask her—'

The thunder of a galloping horse shattered the question between us.

I helped Llwyd to his feet and we hurried out to the courtyard.

‘Message from the east!' cried the rider. ‘I ride from Mai Cad. Where is the Tribequeen?'

‘I am here.' Fraid emerged from her sleephouse, unadorned. ‘What do you bring?'

‘News of great consequence.' The rider dismounted and bowed.

‘I will leave,' I whispered to Llwyd, turning away. It was not for the servants to
hear news as it was given.

‘No.' Llwyd grabbed my wrist. ‘Listen.'

‘There has been an attack on the coast of Cantia,' said the rider, ‘and a two-day
river battle with the legions led by Aulus Plautius. The tribes of Albion are defeated.
King Togodumnus, brother of Caradog, is dead.'

There were gasps and murmurs among the townspeople who had followed him in.

‘And what now of the legions?' said Fraid. ‘Is this the extent of their claim? This
defeat in the east?'

‘They make camp outside Camulodunon and replenish supplies,' said the rider. ‘They
wait for the Emperor Claudius himself to arrive, then they will march on the capital.'

The gathering crowd fell silent, marvelling, as I was, that Camulodunon, the capital
of the most powerful tribe in Britain, could fall to Rome.

‘The great Catevellauni are subdued,' said Fraid. ‘What says Cun?'

‘The King of Mai Cad asks that you travel south with your wiseman. He calls all the
Durotrigan heads to discuss an alliance in the face of this attack.'

‘I wish him luck,' said Fraid. ‘If he can unite the tribes to one strategy, then
he has statecraft even the Mothers lack, but I myself will certainly come.'

The messenger nodded, relieved. ‘Cun calls you to return with me today, that you
may meet tomorrow.'

‘Well then,' said Fraid, ‘I must ready myself to travel. Llwyd, you will ride with
me.'

Llwyd nodded and Fraid turned back to the sleephouse door.

‘I must prepare her,' I said, moving to follow her.

Llwyd halted my path with his arm. ‘Rather prepare yourself,' he said. ‘You will
also accompany us to Mai Cad.'

‘For what purpose?' I asked in surprise.

‘You are journeywoman initiate, you must learn the workings of the tribes.'

‘But I will understand nothing—' I gasped.

Llwyd lifted his hand to silence me. ‘Do not argue with your Journeyman Elder. You
will attend the talks. You will understand.'

‘But what of my travel to the Isle?' I asked. ‘Sulis has told me we leave at dawn.'

‘Sulis will wait.'