“What then of the old wisdom? How shall Your worship be preserved in a changing world?”
Ardanos and Bendeigid both glared at her, but the question had been asked, and already the Goddess was turning, and Caillean trembled, utterly certain at that moment that what looked down at her was not Eilan at all.
“Is it you, daughter of the elder race, who would truly question Me?” came the soft answer. There was a pause, as the attention of the Goddess appeared to go inward; then She laughed. “Ah, it is this one also who asks. She could ask more than that of Me, but she is afraid. Such a silly child not to understand that My will is for you all to be free.” She shrugged Her shoulders gently. “But you are children, all of you.” Her gaze lifted to fix Ardanos, who flushed and looked away, “and I will not destroy your illusions now. You are not strong enough to bear too much reality . . .”
She extended one arm, turning the hand and flexing its fingers as if to enjoy the movement. “The flesh is sweet.” She laughed softly. “I do not wonder that you cling to it. But as for Me, what do you suppose your puny efforts can do to help or harm? I have been here from the beginning and so long as the sun shines or the waters flow, I will remain. I am . . .” There was a terrible truth in that simple statement of being, and Caillean trembled.
“But our lives flow away like the waters and are gone —” Caillean said then. “How shall we pass what You have taught us to those who come after?”
The Goddess looked from her to Ardanos and back again.
“You already know the answer. In ages past your soul has sworn the oath, and so has hers. Let one of you go forth,” She cried. “Let one go forth to the Summer Country, there on the shores of the lake to establish a House of Maidens. There shall I be served, side by side with the priests of the Nazarene. So shall My wisdom survive the days that are coming!”
Almost at once the body of the priestess, which had been tight as a strung bow, was released; the arrow had flown, the message had been given. Eilan slumped back in the chair, and Caillean and Miellyn moved quickly to steady her. She was twitching and muttering, coming out of the trance.
Ardanos stood with head bowed, pondering the meaning of this Oracle and how he could use it. Countermand it he could not – nor would he, a pious man, wish to gainsay the direct word of the Goddess – but it was his privilege to interpret it. After a moment his head came up. He looked directly at Caillean, and it seemed to her that he smiled.
“The Goddess has spoken. Now let it be so. And this house shall be founded by the servant of the Goddess; it is you, Caillean, who will go forth to found the House of Maidens on the Tor.”
Caillean stared back at him. There was triumph in his pale eyes. To Ardanos, this decision of the Goddess was a fortuitous opportunity to achieve something he had long desired, to part her from Eilan.
He picked up the sprig of mistletoe and shook water over the limp body of the priestess, and all other sound was lost in a mocking jangle of silver bells.
“For someone who has been out of harness for a few years, you seem to be keeping busy!” Gaius grinned at his father across the rolled parchments and stacked wax tablets that littered the table. Outside, a cold, February wind was rattling branches that were just beginning to swell with sap. Indoors, the hypocaust warmed the tiled floors and charcoal burning in iron braziers fought the drafts. “I hope young Brutus appreciates all you are doing for him.”
“He appreciates my experience,” said Macellius, “and I appreciate his news. He’s very well connected, you know, related to half the ancient families of Rome. His father is an old friend of your patron Malleus, by the way.”