Priestess of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley

As I moved around the circle, some of the women had a pat for the puppy as well, and others a word of praise for my dead mother. The girls who were currently being trained on the holy isle received me with delighted awe, as if I had intended to play a trick on the High Priestess all along. Roud and Gwenna had the ruddy-fair colouring of the royal Celts, and Heron, the dark, narrow build of the people of the Lake. Aelia was almost as tall as I, though her hair was a lighter brown. Tuli, who surveyed them from the eminence of her approaching initiation, and her younger sister Wren, had fair hair, cut short like that of the others, and grey eyes. This was not the way that I had intended to impress them, but for good or ill, the little dog seemed to be a powerful talisman.

And then the formality of greeting was over, and the solemn row became a crowd of chattering women. But as the girls swept me away to the safety of the House of Maidens, I saw Ganeda watching me and realized that if my aunt had disliked me before, she would hate me now. I had grown up in a prince’s court, and I knew that no ruler can afford to be mocked in her own hall.

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CHAPTER TWO

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AD 262-263

“But where do people go when they visit Faerie? Does the spirit journey only, as in a dream, or does the body really move between the worlds?”

I was lying on my belly with the sunlight soaking into my back, and Wren’s words seemed indeed to come from another world. A part of my mind was aware that I lay on the earth of the holy isle with the other maidens, listening to Suona’s teaching, but my essence was floating in some strange in-between state from which it would be very easy to travel entirely away.

“You are here, are you not?” asked Suona tartly.

“Not all here—” whispered Aelia, giggling. As usual, she had claimed a place next to me.

“You passed through the mists to come to this place, otherwise you would have ended on Inis Witrin,” the priestess continued. “It is easier to journey in the spirit only, but indeed, the body may also be translated, by those who are trained in the ancient wisdom…”

I rolled over and sat up. It was an unusually warm day in the springtime, and Suona had brought her charges to sit in the apple orchard. Light fell in a shifting shimmer through the young leaves, dappling the undyed linen gowns of the girls with gold. Wren was thinking over the answer, head cocked to one side like the bird from whom she took her name.

She could always be depended on to state the obvious, and as the youngest of the girls being trained on Avalon, she came in for a good deal of teasing. I had seen how it was when a new member was introduced to a pack of hounds, and had expected that they would gang up on me.

But even though Ganeda showed me no favour, I was a relation of the Lady of Avalon. Or perhaps it was my size, for at thirteen, Aelia and I were as tall as many of the grown priestesses, or because Wren was such an easy target, but it was the younger girl who got picked on and I who did my best to protect her.

“The Christians have a tale of a prophet called Elijah who went up to heaven in a chariot of fire,” I said brightly. As part of our education we had been taken to a service on the other isle. “Was he an adept as well?”

Suona looked a little sour, and the other girls laughed. They had become accustomed to thinking of the Christians of Inis Witrin as foolish, if generally kindly, old men who mumbled prayers and had forgotten the ancient wisdom. And yet, if what I had heard of the holy Joseph who was their founder was true, they also had known something of the Mysteries at one time.

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