“Oh, it’s true, there are woman bards among us,” Caillean said, “though I play only for my own pleasure. I think that Dieda will become one.”
“I am not surprised,” said Eilan a little wistfully. “She sings beautifully.”
“Are you envious, child? There are other gifts than music, you know.” The priestess frowned at Eilan thoughtfully, then appeared to come to a decision. “Did you not know she was chosen by mistake for you?”
Eilan stared, remembering all those times during her childhood when she had played at priestess, and the vision that had come to her when Lhiannon’s cloak enfolded the other girl.
“Have you never thought of it, little one?”
Eilan did not reply. Of course, she had dreamed of such a thing for a long time, but then she had met Gaius. How could she be meant for a priestess if she was capable of such love for a man?
“Well, there is no need to make a decision now,” Caillean said, smiling. “We will talk of this another time.”
Eilan stared at her, and suddenly with doubled vision she saw the two of them together, lifting their arms in homage to the moon. But though recognition was total, she realized in surprise that Caillean’s hair was not dark, but red, their features alike as those of sisters, and her own face was the one she had seen once before in the forest pool. Sisters . . .and more than sisters. Women, and more than women . . .The words came to her from some place beyond memory.
Then, with a little shock she remembered that she had never spoken with Caillean until yesterday. But as it had been with Gaius, it suddenly seemed to her that she had known the priestess from the beginning of the world.
Caillean had been playing for a long time when Mairi stood up suddenly and cried out, staring down at the dark stain that was spreading across her gown. The other two looked up in surprise.
“Have your waters broken already?” the priestess asked. “Well, love, babes come when they wish and not at our convenience; we’d better have you to bed. Eilan, go find the shepherd and have him bring in more wood for the fire. Then build up the fire and fill the cauldron and bring water to a boil. Mairi will be wanting hot tea before this is over, and so will we.”
As Caillean had no doubt expected, having something to do calmed the younger girl. “Are you better now?” the priestess asked when Eilan returned. “I have often found it a mistake to allow any woman who has not herself borne a child to be in the room at a birth; it only frightens. But if you are to join us in the Forest House, sooner or later you will have to learn.”
Eilan swallowed and nodded, determined to justify the older woman’s faith in her. For the first hour or two Mairi dozed between pains, rousing only a few times an hour to cry out, almost as if in her sleep. Eilan dozed on the bench near the fire; it was the darkest part of the night and the rain had settled down to a soft insistent pounding when Caillean bent and wakened her.
“Come, now, I shall need you; stir up the fire, and make Mairi a cup of berry-leaf tea. I don’t know how long this will take, and I will want your help.”
When the tea was ready, Caillean bent over Mairi, who was moving restlessly, and held the cup to her lips. “There, sip this now. It will make you feel stronger.”
But in a few moments Mairi shook her head, her face growing red and contorted.
“It will not be long, my dear,” said Caillean encouragingly. “Do not try to sit upright now.”
As Mairi slumped, gasping, after the contraction, Caillean said, low and quick, “Eilan, sponge her face, while I make all ready.” She moved to the fire, and spoke to Mairi once more. “See, I have a fine swaddling ready for the little one, and it will not be long now till you hold her. Or do you think it will be another fine son like the one you have already?”