by Nel Franks
‘I don’t believe the Goddess actually wants us to kill infants!’
Patiently, I turned to her. ‘That’s not what I meant, Tomma. If non-productive elements are removed, it reduces the burden on food supplies for everyone in times of shortage.’
She stared at me with her mouth open. ‘Elements? Burden? These are babies, Rosie! They’re not some number in a ledger. They’re living, breathing little people. Their mothers love them. We should protect and support them. Who knows what they might be capable of, with the right support? Look at Lenna!’
Exactly, I thought, look at Lenna. A life of burden on others to cater for her inadequacies. Her life of drudgework was not worth living. Perhaps she would have been better off sacrificed.
Tomma strode alongside me, still emanating waves of outrage. There were times when I found her emotional outbursts very tiresome.
TWO DAYS LATER, IT was mid-winter and the dark of the moon. All the Healer and Temple Acolytes were summoned late at night to form a double column outside the Acolytes Hall. As instructed, we were dressed in our winter robes, and had been issued warm cloaks with deep hoods to wear over the top. With bent heads and shadowed faces, we processed in silence through the dark night. All the lights in houses and halls had been extinguished. Only two wavering flame-torches illuminated our way, held by senior Temple Mistresses.
At the Temple, only one leaf of the great doors was open. We entered maintaining our silence, the soft rasp of our footwear on the stone the only sound. The entire Enclave was present, but extraordinarily quiet. We made our way between the columns and past the Fount of Life. Perhaps I was imagining it, but the Fount didn’t seem to leap as high as usual.
Only two of the great candelabra on the Shrine were lit. The rest of the vast space of the Temple was shadowed, and all sound seemed deadened by the ranks of silent bodies. And it was cold. I was glad I had thought to put on my boots, rather than the thin leather slippers most of the others chose.
All three levels of the Acolytes were involved. We formed a long crescent facing the Shrine, with the Initiates in the centre, in front of the watching women. During the rehearsals I had noticed which position had the clearest view of the Shrine and had shuffled my way into the best place. Tomma was three places further down. We had been instructed to observe without reaction throughout the ceremony, except for one point where we were to hum for a while. We had practiced the humming with suppressed giggles during our instruction but had not been told when it would be required.
As soon as we were satisfactorily arranged, a procession came from the corridor behind the Shrine. The Most Elder Sister led the way in her white robes, followed by the bulky form of the Chief Temple Mistress in the silver-grey of her House. Behind her came a tall Temple Mistress carrying a baby wrapped up warmly and apparently fast asleep. We had been told tincture of willow would have been given to reduce pain and help blood flow. And that the child would be sedated – it had apparently worked. Two women dressed in thin summer robes, with bare feet and uncovered heads, followed them. One was from the Apothecaries, a robed woman. She looked pale and sick. The other was an acolyte! She had the full complement of bands, so she was a Year Nine. Her last band indicated she was from the House of Maintenance. Did I know her? In the gloom I couldn’t see who it was. She was lurching, howling tears and protests. She was urged on her way by one of the Temple Mistresses, who picked her up, not gently, every time she stumbled. Then came the remaining Temple Mistresses, all in thick pale grey winter robes, each with a cloak and hood pulled forward over their faces, as anonymous as we were.
They arranged themselves behind the Shrine, facing the congregation. The thinly clad acolyte mother was in the centre, beside the Mistress holding her baby. The Most and the Chief Temple Mistress approached the Shrine and began to murmur various prayers and chants. I didn’t pay much attention as I couldn’t hear, but I was fascinated to watch the mother. She could barely stand up and kept covering her face with her hands. How would I feel if I ever had to sacrifice my baby? I put that thought aside with a small internal smile – such a fate would never happen to me. I certainly wasn’t going to do anything that could be classed as a sin. And I was never going to get pregnant by lying with a man; I would find another way. Besides, I had realised during our instruction that sins, real or imagined, didn’t have anything to do with an abnormal pregnancy. I wasn’t sure what did cause the deficits, but when I was a Temple Researcher in conception, I was going to find out. And then, whatever the cause, I wasn’t going to allow that to happen to me.
I was interrupted in my ruminations when the Most turned to the two women and demanded their confessions. The Apothecary bowed her head and mumbled into her chest. The Chief Temple Mistress stepped forward and grasped her by the chin, pulling her head up.
‘Speak up! Everyone has a right to hear your confession!’ she boomed.
The woman swallowed, then almost shouted, ‘I told this girl which mixture of herbs to take if she wanted to abort her pregnancy. It’s a right every ...’
‘Silence!’ bellowed the Chief Mistress.
The woman shrank back on herself, her moment of defiance past.
The Most stepped forward, diminutive beside the bulk of the Chief Mistress. But her voice was clear and carrying, with the deep bell tones of power.
‘You have connived with this mother to effect the unlawful ending of the life of a foetus. You have thwarted the Goddess’s plans for this child and this mother. You are saved only by the fact that your potion did not work—it did not cause this mother to miscarry. You not only betrayed the principles of your profession but have shown yourself to be incompetent as well. For this you are sentenced to a year working in the sewerage plant of the House of Agriculture, and for that year, you will be shunned at all times when you are not at work.’
The now ex-Apothecary sank to her knees, disappearing behind the Shrine. The Chief Mistress gave her a look of deep disgust. Then together, she and the Most turned to the young mother. She was almost gibbering, dancing around the tall Mistress holding her baby and attempting to awaken the child. However, the Mistress remained aloof and held the baby firmly, ignoring the pathetic attempts of the mother to take the child away.
The Chief Mistress pulled the young woman forward in front of the Shrine so we could all see her clearly.
‘Confess your sin!’ The Chief Temple Mistress’s deep voice seemed outrageously loud in the dim silence of the space.
The acolyte clutched at the robe at her throat. Her voice was scratchy and broken, punctuated by sobs. I wished she would speak clearly so I could hear.
‘I became pregnant at the last Summer Festival.’ She stopped, and the Chief Mistress gave her arm a little shake.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened up, and looked longingly back at her child.
‘I didn’t want to be pregnant. I was going to graduate this year. I knew what I wanted to do with my life. And it didn’t include children right now. It was my first time at the Summer Field, and some of the girls told me you couldn’t get pregnant the first time you did it. I went, because I wanted to see what it was like to lie with a man.’
Stupid girl. My inner self hissed softly. She should have known better. Lying with men was never going to work out well. The Most gestured to her to go on.
‘When I found out I was pregnant, I was angry, and scared. And confused. I didn’t want to have the baby. I heard that there were herbs you could take that would make it all go away. So, I went to my friend,’ she looked back towards at the ex-apothecary huddled on the floor behind the shrine, ‘and asked her if she knew what to do.’ She took a deep breath and looked up. ‘She only did it because I asked, and because we’re friends. She hasn’t ever done it for anyone else. She doesn’t deserve what you’ve ...’
The Chief Mistress shook her arm again. The girl twisted and pulled her arm out of the Chief’s grasp. Standing even straighter, she glared at the Chief Mistress and then turned to the Most.
The Chief grabbed her again and shook her hard. ‘Confess only your sin! This is not the time or the place for an argument about obligations and rights!’
The Most raised her hand and spoke calmly to the girl.
‘And did your friend give you the herbs?’
‘No!’ The girl vehemently spread her hands. ‘No! She told me what to take, and where to find the herbs and how to prepare them. But she didn’t do any of it. I did it by myself!’
‘And did you take this mixture with the intention of killing your baby?’
‘I, I didn’t ...’ the girl paused and hung her head. ‘I didn’t even think of it as killing the baby. I just wanted the pregnancy to end, so I could get on with my life. After I took the concoction, I was really sick for a few days, but I didn’t have any bleeding or cramps. It didn’t work.’
‘And when the pregnancy did not end, what did you do?’ The Most’s voice continued to be clear and neutral.
‘Nothing! It didn’t work, so I was stuck with it. I didn’t do anything else!’ She evidently thought being passive after the fact should reduce the severity of what she had done. Stupid, stupid girl. She’ll be punished, my inner thoughts were gleeful and exultant.
The Chief Temple Mistress loomed over her. ‘And have you repented of this sin? Have you begged for the mercy of Goddess upon your child and yourself?’
The woman nodded, wilting under the force of the Chief’s censure.
‘Speak!’ the Chief Mistress demanded.
‘I love my baby! As soon as she was born, I loved her. Slowly if found out that she can’t do anything; she needs me! Oh, please let her live, and I’ll look after her for the rest of my life! Let that be my punishment!’ She crumpled the floor, all the indignation and fight flowing out of her. Her face was hidden, and her voice muffled but I could hear her crying, ‘Forgive me Goddess; please spare my baby!’
The Most looked at her for a long moment. I could almost say she looked compassionate, but that seemed inappropriate. Then she raised her right hand and spoke over the huddled girl. ‘Your sin is trying to change the will of the Goddess. For this you have forfeited your right to birth for all time and thus will be sterilised.’ The acolyte screamed. Every acolyte had seen the sterilisation that had happened when we were newly inducted; it was seared into our memories. I swallowed hard. She was unlikely to survive. ‘And, if you recover,’ the Most spoke in the deepest, most ringing tones, ‘you will be Expelled.’ A gasp ran across the entire chamber.
Then the Most stepped past the prostrate girl and took the swaddled baby from the Mistress. The mother flung out a pleading hand. The Most walked unflinching to the Shrine.
Laying the baby on the Shrine the Most gently unfolded all its coverings. Then she picked it up under the arms and raised it high above her. It was a floppy, skinny baby girl, her eyes closed and her grotesquely enormous head lolling on her shoulders. She turned slowly on the spot so we could all see.
‘Witness the punishment of the Goddess upon the sinning woman!’
I was intrigued to see the huge head was oddly flat at the back. As the Most turned, I could not see any other deformity. But the mother had said the little one could not do anything—was that the evidence of her sin?
The Most walked behind the Shrine. She held the baby’s head in the crook of her arm and her scrawny leg supported in her hand. The Chief Temple Mistress pulled forward a copper basin and handed her a golden kris, the candlelight shimmering down its serpentine honed edges. The Most called in a clear powerful voice, raising the dagger high above the supine baby.
‘Great Goddess - maiden, mother, woman, crone - come to us in all your forms. Bring us succour, compassion, power, wisdom. Maiden, bring this woman remembrance that life is sacred and always starts anew. Mother, comfort her, you who have lost so many. Woman, remind her of your power to create life. And grandmother Crone, bring her your wisdom – that death makes way for new life. Close the circle, ancient one, Ravener, Destroyer, Renewer. Claim this child, robbed of her mind, unable to respond, visible sign of her mother’s sin against you, take her now in expiation of this woman’s sin!’
The Most firmly straightened the baby’s leg and stabbed the knife deep into her groin. She startled, her leg jerking in the Most’s hand. But with eyes closed and head lolling, she didn’t cry. Bright blood spurted over the Most’s fingers and the Chief Mistress deftly moved the basin to catch it. I watched, fascinated, as a small wisp of vapour hovered above the bowl, then dissipated, like a spirit leaving.
On our signal, all we acolytes began to hum, overlapping pulses of low sound that faded with the diminishing flow of blood. Now I understood why they had us do it – the mournful inevitability of the sound magnified the drama. The girls beside me found it difficult to keep it up, many of them crying instead. But I hummed as loudly as I could, impressed with the way the ritual had been constructed. As the sound faded and the blood oozed to a stop, the baby’s limp body sagged across the Most’s arm. Only the mother’s howls against the stone floor broke the silence.
All the girls around me were weeping, their faces contorted. I risked a glance at Tomma –her eyes were closed, and her fingers gripped together so tightly at her chest that they were white to the knuckle. Her face shone where her tears had slid down her cheeks. But I felt so different. I was elated! I had just witnessed a deliberate death, the first I had ever seen. Was I supposed to feel something negative, or sad? I didn’t! I felt a kind of spiritual charge I had never experienced. It was exciting to see how simply life could be relieved. It was just blood, flowing away till the body was empty. Easy.
Winter to Transition
Lenna, Winter, Year Three, Initiates
‘IF THERE HAS TO BE intercourse, I want it to be done quickly, cleanly and in the light. All the other stuff, the lust drugs, the smoke and drums, that terrible chase through the darkness, it just stirs things up. It should be a simple act.’
That’s what Rosie said. She doesn’t like Winter Ceremony.
We all went to Ceremony together. Gaia asked me if I wanted to stand with them. I said yes. I like Winter Ceremony. I remember when I wanted to be one of the Hinds, the running girls. Mistresses said I shouldn’t go. I was a ‘nitiate still. I wasn’t good at learning. Other girls were already ‘prentices, so they could be Hinds. But I was still ‘nitiate. But I was old as them, and I wanted to go to Winter Ceremony. They didn’t let me go. Esta said I would have a baby like me, Goddess-gifted. No man would want me, she said.
The Stag chose Ranelle. She liked being chosen. She told me she liked being up on the altar with the man, everyone watching. She got a baby growing in her from that ceremony. But it died after it was born. Ranelle was Goddess-cursed. She was sad for a long time. Mistress Cook was very worried. She said crops would fail ‘cause the baby died. We didn’t have much food that year.
I always try to stand near the fire, so I can see. But this time, Gaia said she and Tomma wanted to stand at the back, because of Rosie.
Gaia said to me, ‘Do you want to stand at the back with us, Lenna? We want to be there with Rosie, to help her. Do you want to stand with us or go up the front near the fire?’
Gaia is my friend. She is always kind to me. She let me stay in their room since they came to the Hall. They will be Novices next year, and they will go downstairs. I am ‘nitiate, and I have to stay upstairs. I told Gaia I want them to stay with me. She said she would ask the Mistresses if I could come with them downstairs. I never had a room downstairs. I don’t think they’ll let me; it’s not proper to have a ‘nititate down with Novices.
She is my friend, so I stood with them at the back. I held Rosie’s hand. I could feel her shaking. Then she took it away. She had her eyes closed a lot. I like to watch. I like it when the Stag catches the Hind, and he jumps over the fire. I like watching when he makes the baby with
her.
A man made a baby with me. At Summer Festival. I had a baby in my belly. He was a baby boy. He was warm, and soft, and he smelled nice. I loved him very much. I still love him, but I don’t have him anymore. I had to give him to the Male Enclave. Gaia helped me. I cry about him a lot. Gaia says if I feel sad about my baby boy, I should just cry. But also, I am glad he went to the men. If he stayed here, maybe they sacrifice him.
Just before Transition, Tomma said did I want to come down to the Wall. They were going for a picnic. It was still cold, but it was sunny.
She said, ‘We’re having a picnic because it’s nearly the end of Initiates for us, Lenna. Would you like to come with us? You can help us celebrate being Novices.’
She looked at me a bit funny, like she thought maybe I wouldn’t want to. But they are my friends. I said yes. We all ran down the road. We ran to their special place next to the Wall. The stone was warm, but the wind was cool.
Tomma said, ‘Oh, do you remember, Rosie, you were sick here, when we Transitioned the first time?’
Rosie pulled her skirts up. She didn’t want to sit there. Gaia said it would be safe to sit down. Rosie made a face at her. We all moved away a bit. We always do things for Rosie.
When we sat down, Rosie sat on one side of me, and Tomma sat on the other side. Everyone was quiet for a while. Then Rosie said, ‘What did you think about the sacrifice?’ She had a funny smile. I didn’t like she said that. It makes me feel sick. It might have been my baby they did that to.
Gaia looked very cross. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Rosie. It’s wrong. It’s another sign of how twisted and inconsistent our society is.’ I didn’t understand all of that, but I know it is a bad thing.
Tomma had tears. ‘It’s so terrible, for everyone. Even for the Temple staff. And the Most – what would it be like have to kill a baby? Those poor mothers.’ That made me cry. ‘And the little babies, oh, the poor little things.’ Then she was crying too.