With question and response, the ritual rolled onwards, defining the sacred moment when, Night and Day being equal, a doorway opened between Past and Future and one who was properly prepared and guided might see between the worlds.
The circle opened to reveal a veiled figure, half-supported by Wren and Aelia. Carefully they guided her to the three-legged stool, steadying her until she found her balance there. The sacred drink has taken her swiftly, I thought, watching. Goddess grant it does not take her too far…
In the old days, I knew, they had called on the Goddess Herself to speak through the lips of Her priestess. Now, though the gods might come down sometimes to dance with us at their festivals, it was considered more useful for the Seeress to become open and empty of any personality, even her own, with no will save to describe the images she saw.
The High Priestess moved forwards to stand at her side. The little table with the silver bowl had already been set before her. Berries of mistletoe floated on the water along with other herbs. From where I stood I could see the glitter of torchlight on the dark water. I felt myself sway and blinked quickly to break the spell, then turned my gaze away, hoping no one had noticed my momentary disorientation. I was a trained priestess now, and should have had better control.
“Sink down, sink down… sink deeper and sink deep…’
Ganeda’s voice was a murmur, leading the Seeress on her journey inwards, downwards, until the bowl of gleaming water became one with the sacred well beside the white cypress tree. Then she straightened and stepped away.
“What passes now among the Romans? What is the Emperor Claudius doing now?” Arganax asked.
For a long moment there was silence.
“Tell us, Seeress, what you see?” Ganeda prompted her.
A shudder vibrated through the sheer folds of the veil. “I see… cypresses against a sunset sky… no, it is firelight. They are burning bodies… one of the watchers staggers and falls…” Heron spoke softly, her voice calm as if she watched from some vantage point outside of the world. “The scene changes… an old man lies in a rich room. His bed is hung with purple, but he is alone… he is dead… Would you know more?”
“Plague—” whispered someone. “May the gods grant it does not come here…’
“Is the Roman power ended, then? Will they return to Britannia?” the Druid asked, and this time Heron’s answer came without prompting.
“I see armies and ships—Briton fighting Briton… blood, blood and fire—” she shook her head in confusion, as if the images were overwhelming her.
“Sink back down to that place where there is only the shining water,” said Ganeda in a low voice. “Tell me, who will come to our aid?”
Heron stiffened. “The Sun! The sun blazes in splendour! It blinds my eyes!” For a moment she remained transfixed, then let out her breath in a long sigh. “Ah—He comes… his armour is Roman, but his eyes are those of one who knows the Mysteries. There is a city… I think it is Londinium. In the streets people are cheering—”Redditor lucis… redditor!”
She stumbled on the unfamiliar Latin, but I could translate it: Restorer of the Light!
So could Arganax. He traded glances with Ganeda. “If this man is an initiate, he could help us greatly,” he said in a low voice. Then he bent forwards again.
“Who is he—no, where is he now?”
Once more Heron swayed above the scrying bowl. “I see him… but he is younger. Hair like dandelion—” she added in response to further questions. “He is riding a chestnut mule along a Roman road… but it is in Britannia… the road to the lead mines in the hills…”
“Here!” exclaimed Arganax. “Surely the gods have destined that he shall come to us!”
The seeress was still mumbling to herself, but at the Druid’s words she straightened, quivering like a drawn bow. “Destiny!” she echoed, and then cried out suddenly in a great voice quite unlike her own. “The son of the sun, greater than his father! A cross of light burns in the sky! All things changing! Fate hangs in the balance, the son will blaze across the world!” With a last ringing cry the Seeress threw out her arms, sending the scrying bowl spinning across the floor. I saw her begin to crumple, and Aelia and I were just in time to catch her as she fell.