But time went on — as it always does, no matter what shifts are taken to ignore its passing – and the festival of Beltane came upon her, when she must serve again as the voice of the Oracle.
Eilan had thought that she had resolved her doubts when she became High Priestess. Perhaps they were returning now because of the child. In the dark hours of the night she wondered if this time she would be punished for her blasphemy, though by daylight she reasoned that if she had lived through the first time, the Goddess was unlikely to be insulted now. If the Power she had felt during her initiation was a delusion, then she had given up Gaius for nothing. But if Ardanos did not truly believe in the Goddess he served, then it was he not she, who was committing the blasphemy. If she meant to continue in this role, it was essential to learn whether it was the Arch-Druid’s interpretation or the Goddess Herself that was the lie.
As Eilan was preparing and purifying herself, it occurred to her that drinking from the golden bowl would be more dramatic done in the sight of the people, and resolved to speak of this to Ardanos when she saw him again. He readily agreed to the change, as if surprised that she should have thought upon the matter at all.
This time, Eilan herself mixed the herbs she would be drinking, and made certain substitutions, retaining those that would increase vision and leaving out the ones that detached the senses from the will. As a result she was vividly aware of the vast hush that descended over the assembled gathering. She could feel their reverence and expectation. From a purely public point of view she could understand it. She knew that the people responded to her beauty as they had never responded to Lhiannon’s faded charm. But there must have been a time when Lhiannon too had been young and very beautiful. Had it never been any more than this – a drama staged by the priests of whom her grandfather was foremost? Surely the first time she sat in the Oracle’s chair the Power that spoke through her had been real.
Eilan drank, and felt the familiar dip and lift of the trance state take her. Remembering how the potion had affected her before, she slumped in her chair with lids half-closed so that Ardanos would not see the intelligence in her eyes. And this time, when the Arch-Druid began his incantation she was aware that instructions were being interspersed into the spell. It was clear what was wanted -and why.
Now she understood why Ardanos wanted a Priestess of the Oracles who did not rely on inspiration. She had heard him speak before of all the benefits to Britain that would come from the civilizing influence of the Romans. In fact she remembered his saying something like this on that evening in her father’s house before she knew who Gaius really was. Well, at least the Arch-Druid could not be accused of inconsistency.
In her last meeting with Gaius she had learned enough to agree that – for now — Ardanos might even have the right idea. Used wisely, the Oracle could be a powerful tool to bring peace to Britain. So long as Ardanos was Arch-Druid, and so long as his policies were indeed the path of wisdom, perhaps what they were doing was not even so great a sin. But if Eilan were to be something more than Ardanos’s instrument; she would have to understand what was going on in the world outside her walls. Potentially, the High Priestess of Vernemeton could exercise an influence that went far beyond her role as Oracle. By learning what her grandfather was doing, she had also taken on the responsibility for deciding whether or not to cooperate, and how far.
Eilan believed that something other than her own hidden will had spoken through her before. But no single human could carry the full power of a goddess. When a divine spirit possessed a body, it not only became accessible, but took on some of that body’s limitations; it had to work with the material at hand.