Marion Zimmer Bradley. The Forest House

“High Priestess?” Dieda exclaimed. “I would never escape from this place then!”

“It would only be temporary, after all,” Caillean reflected. “As soon as Eilan’s babe is born she would return to take up her duties, and then, in any case, you would have to go away —”

“Would you let me go north to be with Cynric?” Dieda asked suspiciously.

“If that is what you desire. But we had thought of sending you to Eriu for advanced training in the skills of a bard . . .”

“You know perfectly well it is what I have always wanted most!” Dieda exclaimed. Caillean looked at her steadily. “Then it seems there is something I still can promise or deny you. If you do this for Eilan -and for me -I will see that you are allowed to learn from the greatest poets and harpers in Eriu. If you do not, Ardanos will surely make you Priestess, and I will make sure that you rot within these walls.”

“You would not,” Dieda said. But she felt a chill of fear.

“You shall see,” Caillean responded calmly. “There is no alternative. It was Lhiannon’s wish, and I will do her will as we all have always done.”

Dieda sighed. She did not want to see anything evil happen to Eilan. She had loved her once, but after the past few years she found it hard to love anyone. It seemed to her that the other girl had been a great fool. She had had the kind of love Dieda had been denied and thrown it away. Nor could she see why Caillean should care. Still, she would not cross her. Caillean could be a good friend or a dangerous enemy — both to her and possibly to Cynric as well. Dieda had dwelt in the Forest House long enough to know just how much influence the Irishwoman wielded in her quiet way.

“So be it,” she said. “I pledge to stand substitute for Eilan until she is delivered if afterward you will be responsible for giving me my desire.”

“I will,” Caillean lifted one hand. “And may the Goddess bear witness. And no one alive can say I have ever broken an oath.”

Half a moon had passed since Lhiannon’s passing, and they were come to the Feast of Lughnasad. Eilan waited with Caillean in the separate dwelling where the High Priestess had so often prepared for the rituals. Hearing sharpened by anxiety alerted her to the scuff of sandaled feet outside the door. Then it swung open, and she saw the hooded figure, seeming impossibly tall in the half-light, standing there. She could just make out the shapes of the other Druids behind him.

“Eilan, daughter of Rheis, the Voice of the Goddess has chosen you. Are you prepared to give yourself to Her completely?” Ardanos’s voice tolled like a great bell, and Eilan felt her belly tighten with fear.

Now all the tales she had heard in the House of Maidens rose up to sweep her careful reasoning away. It hardly mattered whether the Goddess really cared about what she had done with Gaius, Eilan thought despairingly. To survive the ritual without damage would require a miracle. I meant only to challenge the Druids, but I have challenged Her, daring Her wrath this way. Surely the Goddess will strike me down! And what will this do to my child? Eilan wondered. But if the Goddess would punish an unborn baby for what the mother had done, She was not the loving Presence Eilan had sworn to serve.

Ardanos was waiting for her answer — they were all waiting, watching with hope or judgment in their eyes – and slowly she calmed. If the Lady does not want me as I am, I do not wish to live. She took a deep breath, righting her way back to the decision to which in the sleepless nights since Lhiannon’s death she had come.

“I am ready.” Her voice trembled only a little. At least her own father was in the North somewhere with Cynric. She was glad. She did not think she could have met his eyes.

“And do you declare yourself a fit vessel for Her power?”

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