Skin (43 page)

They stripped my clothing and laid me on the ground where Llwyd cast handfuls of
cold dirt over my skin. ‘This is the body of the Mothers, which is now your body,'
he said as I shivered. He handed me a horn of ale, gritty with antler scraped from
the shrine.

As I leaned up to drink, the bitter liquid spilled from my mouth.

‘This is the spirit of the Mothers, which is now your spirit.'

Thick deer and cattle pelts were laid over me. I could not breathe beneath their
smoky weight.

Llwyd's voice trembled as he peeled them back. ‘From this moment you are born to
the world and all knowledge is entrusted to you.'

I lay naked on the ground between them, the force of their gaze like a flame to my
skin.

Llwyd led me to the river's edge and bade me enter the shallow water. Sharp stones
pierced my back as I was pushed down, my face held to one side so I was fully submerged
in the icy flow. His voice was distorted through the water and I could scarcely hear
the last of his calls, but when I climbed back onto the bank, shaking with cold,
it was done. I was sister of the Mothers. Daughter of the Mothers. Kendra of Albion.

Llwyd stood beside me, weeping openly.

Fibor cheered and Fraid stepped forward, arms outstretched.

Fighting my own tears, I returned her embrace. Immediately I could feel a new edge,
a new surface. But beneath it, something was not right. Something remained unaltered.

Over Fraid's shoulder, I saw that Sulis had drawn closer.

As I had no skin talismans, Llwyd loosened the deerhide pouch at his belt and pulled
out an amulet of adderstone. He kissed my forehead with cold lips as he handed it
to me. ‘Daughter,' he whispered. ‘You are born.'

Aided by Etaina, I dressed quickly, strapping my sword and the amulet to my belt.
Was I born? Llwyd had called it so and it would be true for my people. But wisdom
should know itself and I did not feel this knowing.

Sulis stepped forward to offer her grim acknowledgement of the rite. The moon broke
from behind the cloud, lighting her face, and I could see in her stare that she saw:
she saw my doubt.

We walked back to the farmhouse in silence. With each step my hesitation grew. I
knew I was chosen; I knew I had sung. So why did I now feel the Kendra's soul ebbing
away?

Yet even as I wondered, I knew. The Mothers' place was free of skin, but here in
the hardworld I was bound by its laws. This birth was a layer, a cloak that would
be seen by the tribespeople. It gave shape to my surface, but not to my bones. It
was not true.

It was not skin.

We pushed through the doorskins and I gathered my cloak in readiness to leave. It
was too late now. I had to ignore my doubts. I had to be strong. I had to be the
Kendra.

We recognise a speaker of truth by the words that flow from her lips.

Words are the
power that brings all into unity.

A
LONE
,
I
WALKED
the laneways to Cad Hill.

Only Heka could give me what Llwyd could not. Heka, who was lost to the light. Who
had vowed to give me nothing. I forced thoughts of her aside as I strode up the ramparts
and through the entranceway. However it had come, this new birth had strengthened
me. I hoped that I had enough to protect the township, enough to cut free my love.

As I turned into the Tribequeen's compound, music and laughter spilled from the Great
House. Ruther was at feast, the townspeople hungering at his threshold in even greater
numbers.

I darted behind the kitchen, stealing toward the sleephouse, unseen. It was not yet
late. I had time to hide myself before he returned. Waiting silently for Cah to pass
with a platter of cakes, I crept to the
doorway and slipped inside. Praise the Mothers,
no one was there.

I looked around the room in which I had attended Fraid for all my grown summers.
It was different now. Weapons were stacked along the western side—the resting place—and
the bed had been moved to the east, the place of light. Lavish new pelts and weavings
lined the walls, and cups and jugs of Roman design filled the shelves. It was no
longer a tribequeen's house. It was full of the sharp smells of a man.

I hid myself behind the falls of cloth that lined the walls in the darkest part of
the room and soon I heard Ruther's ale-soaked voice approaching the door. As he entered,
I heard a woman's laughter. He was not alone. Had I to wait out his coupling?

‘The hungerers are stubborn, I'll give them that,' said Ruther to his companion.

‘Then disrobe!' The woman laughed. ‘And let me feast if they will not.'

I startled, peering out from the cloth's edge to confirm what my ears could not believe.
The voice was Heka's.

They were untying their belts and pulling off garments amid drunken shrieks.

With a pounding heart, I flattened against the wall, trying to close my ears to the
rut and grunt that followed. Mercifully, it did not take too long until I heard the
familiar pant and rising moan that told me Ruther was close to the end. But the name
he cried, when his pleasure reached its peak, was not Heka's but mine.

‘What said you?' Heka's voice was sharp with fury.

‘I said nothing,' Ruther muttered into his bedskins.

‘I heard you call Ailia,' she spat. ‘Does that serpent poison all? Crawling even
between me and the man I am fucking?'

‘Leave then,' he commanded wearily. ‘You are not even a drop to her river.'

Despite her venom against me, I was angered by his dishonour of her.

When she had left, taking her hateful murmurs into the night, Ruther walked to the
night pot. As he steadily filled it, I stepped out of my cover. ‘Donkey,' I said
softly when he had finished.

‘Ailia!' he gasped, turning. ‘What are you doing?'

‘Waiting for you.'

He came to me, taking my face in his hands. Even in the dim firelight, the blue
of his eyes was startling. ‘You are strengthened,' he said, seeing the change in
me.

‘And you also have risen since I have been gone—Tribeking
.
' I pulled free of his
hold.

He gathered his trousers from the floor and tugged them on. His chest and arms had
thickened, hardened. His warrior stature stole my breath. He was worthy of a king's
title. But not this way.

With a loud sigh he sat down on the bed. ‘I have simply done what needed to be done.
We are fools if we fight them and Fraid could not see it.'

‘Am I then to be counted in your band of fools?'

‘If you cling to a chariot that is speeding toward a cliff edge, then yes—you are
a fool.'

‘Foolish is one who insults the Kendra of Albion.'

He looked up in surprise. ‘Is that who I see before me?'

For a moment I wondered if, here with him, I could hold myself to the title. His
respect meant more than I had realised. I drew up, feeling my skin prickle with light.

‘Do not try and summon your glamour against me,' he warned. ‘I will not be swayed
by spirit-craft. But talk to me and I will hear you.'

I sat beside him on the bed. It was still warm and smelled faintly of his spill.
‘Why do you force your tribespeople to surrender to the invasion?' I asked calmly.

‘You would sooner they were forced by blade?'

‘Then at least they die in the light.'

‘But what are they dying for? Why do you not listen to one who has seen? I have left
the shores of Albion. I have seen beyond. If we fight, we are fighting to remain
in the darkness. If light is your love, Ailia, you will find it in Rome. There, you
may live like a god.'

I watched how his beliefs enlivened him. They were truly held, if poorly formed.
‘There is something I love more than light,' I said.

‘Is it me?'

I had to laugh. ‘No, you fool, it is freedom. Their god's life is bought by our freedom
if we allow it. It is not for any man or woman to live as a god.'

‘But there is a new freedom in what Rome wil bring,' he insisted. ‘In the cities,
I see the vision of men set free—'

‘And what of the Mothers?' I filled with anger. ‘Where are they to exist in these
cities of men? Do you put your own creation above that of the Mothers?'

He turned to me, grimacing in his conviction. ‘Our creation honours the gods. Our
greatness is theirs. If you could only see—'

‘Let me tell you what
I
have seen, Ruther. I have seen the Mothers at work. I have
heard the songs that are the making of the very air we breathe and the ground we
tread. If these songs are not honoured, there will be no cities. There will be no
ground. There will be darkness. It may be falsely lit by men. But in time that will
fail. Only the Mothers' light will endure.'

He snorted. ‘The knowledge of the new world is no false light, Ailia. It is reshaping
our world. Even the paths of rivers can be redrawn by this knowledge. The leaders
of Rome are craftsmen, Ailia, and the world itself is their clay. Are you so wedded
to our simple ways?'

I stared at him. He was as assured as the sun, ignoring all shadows. His certainty
cast its own light and for a moment it blinded me. He
was untouched by doubt, unwounded.
I thought of Taliesin and the bruises that coloured him, his knowledge wrought by
his wounds. I felt a rush of yearning.

‘Nothing is more sacred than the waters,' I said steadily. ‘A fool's risk is taken
in reshaping them.'

He recoiled from my insult.

‘You call the ways of Albion simple,' I continued, ‘but, forgive me, Ruther, it is
your own wilful ignorance that sees it so. You know there is wisdom embedded in every
stone and river. It is intricate beyond measure, beyond comprehension.'

He looked away. In the flickering light I saw traces of the boy he once was. ‘Why
have you betrayed the old ways?' I asked gently.

‘Because they do not serve me.' He avoided my gaze. ‘Plautius has promised me leadership
of Summer, Hod and even Ham Hill. All of central Durotriga, with his soldiers at
my flank, if I stand beside him.'

I stared at him in disbelief. ‘You hunger for power, yet there is already power in
you, equal or greater than any man.'

He whipped to face me, ignited by my praise. Our eyes locked and then, before I could
halt it, we were embracing, drawn by an animal bond I could not sever.

‘You weaken me, Ailia,' he said, pulling away. ‘Listen—' he gripped my arms, ‘—the
legion will be here in two, perhaps three days. They will arrive peacefully. I will
ensure it. But even so, they will seek you out. They do not trust the journeypeople.
You and Llwyd will be killed.'

I stiffened. ‘I am not afraid.'

‘You should be.' He swung to the floor before me. ‘I asked you once and you refused
me but there is still a chance for us. The townspeople will follow you. Will you
join with me to rule these tribelands under the law that will be strongest?'

The fire made a soft silhouette around his head.

‘You are the bravest fighter of Summer,' I said. ‘The Mothers have
gifted you courage
and skill but you will not repay them for it. I will join with you, Ruther, but only
for one purpose. I ask
you
now for the last time: will you stand strong with me against
the Romans?'

‘As husband?' His voice was unwavering. ‘Do you offer yourself to me as wife if I
turn on Rome as you request?'

My thoughts swam. Was this what I must do? Marry him to turn his mind? The sacrifice
was too great. ‘I cannot,' I said. ‘I cannot offer myself as wife.'

‘Then damn you, Ailia,' he said in a low whisper. ‘You will die when they come and
I will not seek to stop it.'

I stared, stunned, then rose to my feet and walked to the doorway.

‘Wait,' he cried, following me and grabbing my wrist. ‘I did not mean it. I am sorry.'

‘Do you want a wife who lives against the very core of her conscience?' I spluttered.
‘Is that what you seek in a woman?'

He shook his head, his expression anguished. ‘I want you.'

We fell against each other, exhausted.

‘Stay,' he murmured into my neck.

‘You have just been spent, and with Heka of all people,' I said, pulling away.

‘I took her because she is sharp-witted like you, and well practised in the coupling
arts,' he said, holding me firm. ‘But she is not even your shadow.' He kissed my
throat.

Despite the heat that flared in my centre, I pushed him away. ‘I cannot lie with
you.'

‘Am I not good enough for a journeywoman now?' he jeered. ‘In Rome a man may take
his woman as he wishes without penalty.' He reached for me again but I strode to
the door.

‘I spit on your Roman ways.'