Skin (44 page)

I walked back through the silent township and mourned for the waste of him.

‘How did you fare, Journeywoman?' Fraid greeted me at the farmhouse door.

‘He is resolved,' I said. ‘He will not fight the legion. He has already met with
envoys to plan his succession.'

When I walked inside there were twelve or fourteen tribespeople gathered around the
fire with Fibor, Etaina and Llwyd. They were councillors and warriors of Cad, weak
from Troscad, but now hungrily eating bowls of a rich-smelling stew. Among them was
Orgilos, Ruther's father. They dipped their heads as I stood before them. ‘Why do
you eat?' I asked in astonishment. ‘Have you broken Troscad?'

‘We no longer oppose the decision of our leader,' said Orgilos, gnawing a knuckle
of bone.

‘But Ruther's position is not changed,' I said.

‘We are loyal to another now.' Orgilos's eyes met mine. ‘If the Kendra will bless
the battle, then we will fight.'

‘I have sent word to many townspeople, many warriors,' said Fraid, making room for
me on the log at the strong place. ‘Although they will not admit it to Ruther, I
still have their loyalty. When I told them of your initiation, they pledged to support
you. See here—' She lifted a basket filled with tokens: arrowheads, spearheads, knives.
‘They are ready to fight for Summer. They need only the Kendra's word on the battle
outcome.'

My chest burst with pride at their courage. ‘Ruther said the legions are two or three
days from approach.'

‘Or closer,' said Fibor. ‘Some scouts report they have already left Hod Hill.'

‘They could take one of two paths,' said Fraid. ‘I suspect that they will move on
Mai Cad first. They will know it is a threat.'

‘Our only choice now is to move the farmers into the hillfort and defend the ramparts,'
said Fibor.

‘Ruther must not learn of it,' I murmured.

‘How are our weapons stores?' asked Fraid of the warriors.

‘I have spoken to the makers,' said Orgilos. ‘They are ready to work hidden by night
to ready us for battle.'

‘We will need to position our weapons and stock the ballista,' said Fibor. ‘This,
too, must be done at night. By the time the Romans are upon us, Ruther will have
no chance to intervene. There will be war and he will have to fight, either with
us or against us.'

‘Ailia.' Fraid turned to me. ‘We need you to sight the battle and secure it with
your blessing.'

The blood quickened in my neck. ‘Perhaps it should be Llwyd—' I stammered. ‘He has
blessed many battles.'

‘No,' Llwyd said. ‘You are the Kendra. I will assist you, but you alone can foresee
this battle's outcome.'

‘There are few hours left until dawn,' said Fraid. ‘Let us all take sleep. Ailia,
you will have but one day to see and sanctify this battle.'

When the warriors had departed and we were preparing our beds, I asked Fraid where
Sulis was.

‘She left for the Isle,' Fraid answered.

‘By night?'

‘She would not stay.' Fraid smiled as if to reassure me. ‘She holds her knowledge
too firmly,' she said. ‘Do not heed her.'

I had not heeded her. And I hoped I was not mistaken.

At daybreak, Llwyd and I walked to the Oldforest, where we could work unseen. An
ovate followed, carrying the pots and herbs, and leading the calf whose blood would
summon my sight.

Llwyd led us to the pool where I had twice met Taliesin.

‘Here,' said Llwyd.

As we positioned our tools, the familiar mist rose up from the
water, obscuring my
view to the other side. I knew Taliesin waited beyond it. But I could not call him
now. I had to wait until I was alone. I had to wait until the battle was fought and
won.

While Llwyd sat in silence, watching for portents of birds or hares, the ovate prepared
for my seeing. Deftly he slayed and skinned the calf and set about making a broth
of its blood over a fire of oak.

I sat on the forest floor, facing the sunrise, the river gurgling before me. The
ovate laid the calfskin, fleshside out, over my head. Beneath this heavy tent, I
smelled the dung warmth of the animal's pelt and the tang of its blood. I was handed
a cup of broth and I sipped, closing my eyes.

It could take many hours to bring me to sight. With the ovate and Llwyd keeping vigil
beside me, I began the deep, rhythmic breaths, and the chants I had learned from
Steise, to coax open my eye.

Soon there were moments of sight: Ruther's face, Taliesin's. I saw fragments of Cookmother,
Heka, then at last there were soldiers in red tunics at camp.
See!
I commanded myself,
but I pushed too hard and the image slipped like vapour. I needed the raven eye to
make clear sight. I needed to change form. ‘Heat me!' I cried to the ovate.

They fuelled the fire, setting steaming bowls beneath my calfskin, and passing me
medicines. I dizzied with heat and dripped with sweat, but the raven form would not
come.
I changed with the Mothers
, I anguished.
Why not here?

And yet I knew why. My doubts had been founded. I was free with the Mothers, but
here I could not take form without skin.
Then why?
I agonised. Why had they chosen
me? Here I could not take form without skin.

I laboured to see what I could, grasping at the wisps of sight at the edges of my
vision. I saw Ruther gathered with two men of the legion, talking with purpose, but
I heard no sound. ‘I cannot hear what is said!' I lamented aloud.

Llwyd's voice came as if from a great distance. ‘Call to the Mothers, Ailia. Make
sight of the battle. Make sight of our success—'

Images of our fighting men painted for battle, eyes alight, flashed before me then
faded. ‘It is a blur!' I cried. ‘It does not come.' I weakened, near fainting beneath
the heavy cloak.

‘It will come, Kendra, do not desist.'

But it did not.

Though Llwyd asked and coaxed, I said nothing more as I sat and waited. It could
not be known that my eye would not open.

Finally it neared day's end. Exhausted, I pulled the skin tent away from my shoulders.

‘Do you have an answer for the warriors?' asked Llwyd.

I had heard the song. I knew it must be defended, whether or not I had sighted the
battle. For why else had I been chosen? ‘Yes,' I said.

We walked back to the farmhouse in dusk. All the way, I silently crafted the words
that would give the warriors strength.

‘Have you seen us victorious?' Fraid asked as we arrived.

There were several more warriors gathered around the fire, including some with tartans
from townships in greater Summer. Among them was Uaine, Bebin beside him, a plump
boy child squirming in her arms.

I looked around at the faces staring at me. They had asked me to guide them. Their
future hung on my answer. What I could not find with my sight I would create with
my words. No one would know that the sight had not come.

I bade them be seated and stood before them in the strong place. Then I began. ‘Our
fighters are fewer in number than Rome's but we hold one incontestable weapon.' I
paused to quell the shake in my voice. ‘That weapon is truth.'

A long silence greeted my statement. But they were listening.

‘If you strengthen truth, it will strengthen you.' I took a deep breath, drawing
on the words of the Mothers, of Taliesin, of my own heart. ‘If you guard truth, it
will guard you.'

As I looked around at the warriors, I saw a kindling in their spirits.

I stepped onto the bench so that I could see, unobstructed, all to whom I spoke.
‘If you honour truth,' I continued, ‘it will honour you. If you defend truth, it
will defend you.'

My heart quieted. I was clear in what I must tell them and the words rose up from
my learning like water. ‘For it is through truth that great tribes are governed.

‘Through truth every law is beautiful and every cup is full.

‘Through truth, mighty armies of invaders are drawn back into enemy territory.'

Their eyes were ablaze.

‘For so long as you fight for truth, it will not fail you and you will not perish.'
I paused to take breath, the will of the warriors pliant in the fire of my words.
‘As Kendra, I tell you that we will fight, men and women of Summer. And truth will
make us indestructible.'

The warriors broke into smiles and cheers.

I stepped off the bench with trembling legs. I knew I had done the right thing. They
had to believe in their strength. This would be enough.

In the hum of chatter and strategy that followed, I gathered with Fibor and Llwyd.

‘We will prepare this night,' said Fibor. ‘There will be little time to dress and
paint—'

‘Ruther must be distracted,' said Llwyd. ‘He still commands several warriors—'

‘And we cannot risk him sending scouts to the Roman camps,' said Fraid, who joined
us.

Fibor exhaled with a grunt. ‘He must be detained and his men
told not to disturb
him. Otherwise the risk of discovery is too great.'

‘I will distract Ruther.' My steady voice belied my knotting stomach.

‘No, Ailia,' said Llwyd, ‘we need you with us.'

‘But she is the only one,' said Fraid, ‘who can weaken him.'

‘Commence the preparations,' I said, fastening my cloak. ‘I will make sure Ruther
is mine until dawn.'

‘Go now,' said Llwyd, kissing my cheek. ‘We need every minute.'

As I stepped out of the warm farmhouse into the dark spring night, I was met with
an overwhelming dread. Of all the fears I had known in my lifeturn, this moment felt
the most ominous. A brutal force lay in wait, seeking to tear us from our roots.
The people of Albion were no strangers to battle. It was the way of the tribes to
fight for their boundaries, to display their bravery. But this was not battle sport.
This was an attack on our very existence. We must defeat it or we would not survive
it.

I quickened my step. I had to keep my wits sharp now.

One of Ruther's men stood at the sleephouse door and I bade him tell Ruther I was
there. I drew up, taking on a small glamour, while I waited to be admitted, not too
much, lest Ruther be suspicious. I was called through.

He looked weary as he drank by the fire, but straightened at the sight of me. ‘What
brings you back?' he asked.

‘Does the girl Heka share your bed this night?'

‘No. She is cast from my favour.'

‘Good.' I dropped my cloak and moved toward him.

To deny our kin is to disturb our soul.

I
AWAKENED
JUST
after first light. The cries of the smiths drifted up from the craft
huts and I wondered if their night had been fruitful, if I had bought them enough
time.

Ruther murmured and I watched him sleep, the same fine face that woke me from my
first Beltane. His eyes flickered behind closed lids, dreaming perhaps of his beloved
city. I opposed him but I could not hate him. In his own way, he acted in truth.