The Red Abbey Chronicles (8 page)

I
DID NOT JOIN IN WITH THE CELEBRATION
feast in the Moon yard. I lay in bed in the dormitory trying to forget what I had seen and heard. I tried to sleep. I must have drifted off around dawn because I was woken up at midday by Sister O.

“Mother wants to talk to you. Do you feel strong enough yet?”

She gave me a piece of bread to eat and watched while I got dressed. My movements were slow. I did not want to talk to Mother. I did not want to answer any questions. I did not want to think about what had happened. But I could not say no to a direct summons from Mother herself. So I followed Sister O across the central courtyard and up Moon Steps. It had never felt as long a way as it did that day. The sun was shining in the bright-blue spring sky, the sound of junior novices playing came from the
Knowledge yard and I could see the goat kids frolicking gleefully up on the mountainside. The smell of the Crone’s breath still lingered in my nostrils. Her voice mumbled in every sharp-edged shadow. I walked as closely behind Sister O as possible. The Crone could not take me if I was not alone.

Though I knew that if she wanted something, she would get it in the end.

Moon House is a low grey building with the Moon yard beside it. The house is built of stone, like all houses on the island, and its back wall is formed by the mountain itself. The door is made entirely of metal. The surface might have been clean once, but it has accumulated dents and scratches since, which look like the result of many blows. It smells rancid. I had only ever been through it once before, when I arrived and was brought to Mother for the first time.

Mother was sitting behind her large desk, waiting for me. The sharp wind up on the mountainside made her chamber very cool. There were two doors in the room: one into the cell where Mother slept and another simple wooden door with iron fittings and a hefty knob. The first was ajar and I could see that it led into a naked little cell. There was a narrow,
comfortable-looking bed, a desk with a lamp and a little window.

Mother’s face was calm and expressionless, but I thought I could see a glimmer of worry in her bright eyes. I tried not to meet her gaze. I did not want her to guess the truth from my eyes. Sister O stood next to me, her back dead straight and her lips pressed tightly together. I had never seen her back straight before.

“Maresi, what happened last night?” Mother’s voice was authoritative. She was expecting an answer.

I looked down at the ground. I could not lie to Mother. I could only stay silent.

“It was the Moon, was it not?” Mother’s voice softened. “She can be frightening. I understand that. The first time she spoke to me I was also afraid. Afraid of the responsibility. I understood that she had chosen me as her servant. As Mother of the Abbey I stand closest to Havva. But before I was chosen as Abbey Mother I was called by the Moon. Maybe you were thinking about a different path, Maresi, but if you have been chosen by the Moon you cannot refuse. You must become my novice.”

I looked up. Mother had not seen the door, had not heard the Crone. I did not know what to say. It
was a great honour to be invited to Moon House, but it was not right. Yes, the Moon had looked at me, but it was the Crone who spoke to me. Or were they one and the same? I glanced over at Sister O but I did not dare answer.

Mother’s eyes impelled me to speak.

“The Goddess… she has three aspects, has she not? The Maiden, the Mother and the Crone.” Mother nodded encouragingly, so I dared to ask my question. “What about the Moon, is she one of them?”

Sister O sighed. “Now, Maresi. I have explained this before…” Mother raised a hand and cut her off.

“No, Maresi. The Moon is all three. The Moon is the face of the Goddess’s unity.”

“Then I was not called by the Moon,” I said firmly. “That much I know.”

I could not read Mother’s expression. Was it disappointment I saw in her eyes?

“Are you absolutely sure?”

I nodded.

“Do you want to tell me what happened during the dance?”

I shook my head. I did not want to talk about it ever. I did not want even to think about it.

Mother gestured to dismiss us. Sister O followed
close on my heels and I could feel her sharp gaze on my back. Mother had accepted my answer, but I knew it would not placate Sister O.

When we came down to the central courtyard I turned my face towards the sun. Sun, giver of life. I wanted her light and warmth to chase away the remainders of darkness inside me, but I also did not want to look Sister O in the eye. She stood next to me with her arms crossed and eventually I had no choice but to look at her.

“Maresi. If you tell me what happened maybe I can help you.” She stretched out a hand and gave my headscarf an awkward little stroke. “You have always been able to come to me with your questions. If there is something you are wondering about or want to know…”

I shook my head again and sealed my lips tightly. She looked at me for a long time and sighed.

“Very well. But I am here if there is ever anything you want to talk about.”

I watched her as she walked up the steps to the Temple yard. Sister O had never asked me for more questions before.

The next few days were difficult. I withdrew from the other girls because I was not willing or able to answer their questions. I stayed out in the sun as much as possible. All darkness scared me. Wherever shadows gathered I thought I could sense the door to the other realm. The realm of the Crone. Shadows seemed to be everywhere. The sun did not feel as bright as before. Everything was darker. In every gust of wind and every ocean whisper, I expected to hear the voice of the Crone.

It seemed that my uncertainty and weakness made Jai stronger. She became assertive and started speaking to the other novices, not only me and Ennike. Maybe she had to become strong because I was weak; to have the strength to support me for a while. She never asked me any questions but she was there for me whenever the darkness closed in. Often it happened in the mornings, when the sun was low and the shadows between the houses were deep and sharp as a knife’s edge. When I least expected it the Crone’s voice would drift towards me, whispering and hissing until I quaked with fear. Jai was always by my side, and she would take me back out into the sunshine and talk to me softly and sweetly, like I did for her when she first came
to us. Her voice drove the Crone’s voice away. For a while.

I never felt safe from the Crone’s beckoning, but nights were the worst. It was then that the darkness pressed against my chest and eyes and I heard Anner’s final rasping breath over and over again. Death’s realm felt so near and my own heartbeat felt so unsteady and weak. How could I resist the will of the Crone? How could I keep myself away from her door?

Whenever the anxiety became too much, without a word or even a sound a hand came through the darkness and touched mine. Jai. She did not take hold of my hand but let me grip hers, if I wanted. I clutched her hand hard with my thumb on her wrist and her steady pulse mixed with mine to anchor me in this world.

With Jai’s hand in mine I could sleep at last.

A
FTER A FEW DAYS OF BRIGHT SUN
my memories of darkness started to fade away and I could breathe again. I ceased to hear the Crone everywhere. I played and laughed as usual, took part in lessons and duties and went to the treasure chamber in the evenings to read. The only place where I felt uneasy was at the door to the crypt. I could feel the Crone’s power emanate from it and always ran past as fast as I could. Now I was more than happy to have Jai’s company. I was afraid of wandering around Knowledge House alone.

One morning after lessons Ennike, Jai and I were sitting by the well in the central courtyard as the servant to the Rose came walking past. She stopped and smiled at us. I always feel shy around her. The servant to the Rose is the only sister who does not wear a headscarf, and her long copper-brown hair
tumbles down her back in thick, gleaming locks. Her large eyes are dark and full of warmth and her fair skin was already covered in freckles from the strong spring sun. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

Whoever acts as servant to the Rose gives up her own name, so I do not know what she was called before she became the Rose. It is another name for the Maiden, the part of the First Mother whose wisdom is to do with the beginning of life and the sacred powers of the female body. In many communities the Maiden is merely a representation of innocence, but at the Abbey we know better. All the deepest mysteries of femininity belong to the Maiden. She is the seed and the sprout. The Mother, Havva, is life and fruitfulness, and the Crone is death and destruction. The Rose walked over to us.

“I have no novice, as you know. Could you three help me with something? I need to polish the Temple’s sacred items before the summer rites, and some helping hands would be very welcome.”

“Naturally.” Ennike was on her feet at once. She did not seem to be as shy around the Rose as I was. Jai and I followed Ennike and the Rose up Eve Steps to the Temple of the Rose.

The door to the Temple of the Rose is the most beautiful one on the whole island. It is a double door, as tall as three women, and made of snow-white marble, with a rose pattern inlaid in red marble. We stopped in front of the door and I ran my fingers along its smooth surface. There was not a single join to be felt.

“Nobody does handicraft like this any more,” said the Rose.

“I wish there were a sister who knew this art, and that she could pass her knowledge on to me and me alone,” I said, stroking the glossy surface again. The Rose smiled.

“Sister O has told me about you, Maresi. She was certainly right.”

I felt myself turn bright red and quickly pulled my hand away. I was not entirely sure what she meant by that, but it was not unkind.

The Rose unlocked the doors and we stepped into the cool shade of the Temple.

As far as I can recall I had only been in there for thanks and praise. Now the Temple was empty and quiet. The two large rose-coloured windows on the long east and west walls cast their rose-red light in beautiful patterns on the floor. In the middle of the
hall is a double row of slender columns stretching up into the ceiling shadows. The Temple is completely bare; there are no benches or chairs, no tables or ornaments. The only decoration, apart from the rose windows, is the marble floor which is like a red and white woven carpet, full of hidden vines, flowers, leaves and swirls. The pattern they form almost looks like written words, and when I stare at it for long enough I feel as if at any moment I might crack the code and understand what it means. But I have not deciphered it yet.

At the far end of the hall, on the left-hand side, is the platform where the Rose stands to lead ceremonies. The Rose walked over to it, went up the wide marble steps and waved for us to follow. Our steps echoed in the empty hall and it almost felt as if we were intruding somewhere we had no right to be. When I took the first step up the stairs I felt an unseen hand hold me back. I stopped and next to me Jai did the same. Ennike was oblivious and carried on up the steps. The Rose turned and looked at us. Her eyes lingered on Ennike. Then she raised her hand.

“I invite these daughters of the First Mother to tread on the sacred ground of the Rose,” she said, with the same formal voice she used in the big
ceremonies, like the Blood rites and the unfurling of the Rose. The invisible hand let go and Jai and I were able to continue up the stairs.

The Rose opened the carved rosewood double doors at the back of the platform. We followed her into a room overflowing with objects.

The only light came from a single, narrow, north-facing window, but the light was reflected by hundreds of shining trinkets and nearly dazzled me. There were brass and silver candlesticks as tall as me. There were tables piled with dishes, bowls and boxes of every imaginable shape and size, all made of silver and gold. Nearly everything bore the emblem of a five-petalled rose. There were large old chests made of darkened wood with tarnished fittings and locks that looked as if they had not been moved for many decades. Cupboards lined the walls, some simple and others richly decorated with embossment and inlays. Some cupboard doors were ajar, revealing shelves stacked with yet more things: jewellery, boxes, cups, bowls and heaps of objects I could not distinguish.

The Rose moved effortlessly amongst all the furniture and objects without touching or bumping into anything. Jai and I stood in the doorway, but Ennike
entered in wonder while the Rose picked rags and jars out of a little chest in the farthest corner.

“We do not have to polish everything, do not worry,” she said with a little chuckle. “Only the things we need for the summer rites, like the Blood rites. We need the incense-burners, combs, three ceremonial bowls, three silver candlesticks… I will pick everything out for you.”

While she was speaking the shadows in the room started to draw together and flock around me. The darkness was closing in, throbbing with potency. I braced myself and raised my hands to fend off the Crone, fend off death. I was not ready! I wanted to scream but no sound came out.

The Rose stiffened and turned around. She looked at Ennike and dropped a jar of polish on the ground. The clang of metal against marble scattered the shadows and the Crone disappeared. My legs gave way and I sat down on the nearest chest. Jai was the only one who noticed something was wrong, and she came and stood by my side. She did not touch me, but her closeness was calming.

Ennike stood next to one of the tables with a guilty look on her face. She was holding two large combs of tarnished green copper, and all the other
objects the Rose had mentioned—incense-burners, bowls, candlesticks—were laid out on the table in front of her.

“I only wanted to help,” she said apologetically. “Forgive me, Sister, I did not know it was wrong.”

“How did you know where everything was?” The Rose came over to examine the objects on the table. She picked up one of the bowls and ran her fingers around it as if to check it was real.

Ennike looked around, confused. “I—I just knew. When you named the objects I sort of saw where they were. My hands found them by themselves.”

A beaming smile spread across the Rose’s face and I saw tears glitter in her eyes.

“At last! I knew the Maiden would show me, but I did not know how!” She shook her head and her hair shone in the sunlight. “The First Mother does have a sense of humour.”

We all looked at her questioningly and she laughed at our confusion. “The Maiden is the Rose, my mistress. The first aspect of the First Mother. Yet she chose to show me my novice through a task which actually belongs to the second aspect, the Mother Havva. I would have thought the third aspect also had to be present during a choice like this.”

“Novice!” said Ennike, gobsmacked. “Me?”

“You.” The Rose smiled warmly as she walked over and gently took the combs away from her. She took hold of her hands. “You shall be novice to the Rose. Can you not feel it yourself?” The Rose let go of Ennike’s hands and at once became very serious. “Where is the bell we ring during the Blood rites?”

Without hesitation Ennike pointed at a little box on top of one of the lower cupboards.

“When is the Maiden at her strongest?”

“In spring at the awakening of the Spring Star.” I could have given the same answer; it is what Sister O taught us. But then Ennike surprised me. “She is also strongest at the Winter Solstice, when the Mother sleeps. She is strongest when a child is born, when the earth is ploughed and when a girl gets her first moon blood.”

The Rose nodded. “How many secrets does the Maiden hold?”

“Nine.”

“Whisper to me her secret name.”

Ennike leant forward with an expression of wonder on her face and whispered something in the Rose’s ear. She smiled and clasped Ennike’s hands again.

“Do you still doubt it?”

Ennike shook her head and swallowed. “But the servant to the Rose has to be beautiful.” Her voice was very meek. “That is the way it has always been. I am… I am covered in scars.”

“The Maiden has also felt pain and fear, Ennike my daughter,” the Rose said softly. “It does not make her any less beautiful.”

When the light from the north window illuminated their faces so close to one another, I saw that they in fact look very similar, woman and girl. The same thick, curly hair, the same warm eyes. But more than that: their faces wear the same expression.

“You are beautiful, Ennike,” I said. “And you will grow even more beautiful before the first frost comes.”

I did not know why I said that. The Rose gave me a sharp look. Then she smiled softly, but with a sad look in her eyes.

“So you are here after all, Crone.”