The Priestess of Camelot

by Jacqueline Church Simonds

  In truth, Bergthora had only about twenty winters and a cast in one eye. But if she could keep the shrine and read the auguries, I thought it was possibly a good way to weave the two Motherhouses together. “Yes, Lybid-Sister, I think this a fine idea.”

  Lybid smiled in a feline way. “It shall be done,” she said.

  There was nothing that Lybid or her girls did or said that made me uncomfortable. They were secretive and tended to stay with themselves, rather than joining in with the others in the day’s tasks. But that could be put down to nervousness in a new place. The Viborg sisters did all they could to include them. And ever did I feel Lybid’s eyes upon me whenever I was outside.

  I consulted Jasoslova about the feelings I was having. She said, “Do not give your trust too easily, girl. Lybid is older than you and knows more of the world. I cannot say why, but I do not think she means you well. Ware yourself!”

  A moon later, Jasoslova collapsed in the healer’s hut. I heard the crash of crockery breaking and ran to the place. I found Jasoslova just as the light of her life was fading from her blind eyes. I cried and cried! Jasoslova was the closest I had to a mother. Losing her was devastating. It was weeks before I could think even a little of others.

  But the loss of Jasoslova presented me with a rather difficult problem. I knew that Lybid had lost her healer. And Drifa, the initiate who had served Jasoslava in my place since I became the Lady, was even younger than me. It was not my vanity that informed me that Drifa did not have half of my talent.

  There was nothing for it; I would have to be both Lady and healer.

  “That seems such a great many duties for you, my lady,” Lybid said in my hut, after I made the announcement at the evening meal.

  “I do not know if it has been done before, but I do not know any other way. We must have a healer,” Anya said.

  Lybid said nothing, but she looked at me out of the corner of her eye. I could feel she didn’t approve.

  “You have another solution?” I asked.

  “Perhaps you should share some of the burdens of serving as the Lady,” Lybid said.

  I considered her words carefully. I was sure Jasoslova would have told me to beware. “Such as?”

  Lybid got up and looked out the door of my hut. “It is said … well, it is said you do not get along very well with the Lord of Viborg.”

  I did not like that I could not see Lybid’s face. “This is not a secret, no.”

  “If you approve, I could attend the councils. I used to go to the monthly meetings with the Lord of Arus.”

  I admitted to myself that it was a duty I would be content someone else dealt with. Jasoslova had said Lybid was more worldly. “Lord Khoryn does not care for women at the meetings and finds the Motherhouse of no value to him. But perhaps, if you have skill in this matter … Well, I would like us better represented there, to be sure.”

  Lybid turned and bowed. “The honor is to serve.”

  Chapter Six

  Just after the Lughnasadh rites, I heard a scream from the shrine hut. I ran to it, followed closely by Lybid and some of the girls. There, we found Bergthora on the floor, frothing at the mouth. I called to Drifa to bring some of the calming wine we made, for the falling sickness was not unknown to me. Gently, we laid Bergthora in her bed. Shortly, the wine was brought, and I got some into the girl’s tight-clenched mouth. A little while later, her features loosened, and she began to breathe easier. But it was clear by her wandering eyes and the strange noises she made that her mind was in another place.

  “She is having a vision!” Lybid said.

  We waited patiently for a long while. Suddenly, the girl shrieked, “They are lost!”

  “Who is lost, Sister?” Lybid said, grabbing the girl’s head on either side. “Tell us what you see!”

  “The Sisters of Groningen suffer as those of Viborg and Arus. They have no home. The Frisians wish to kill them. Oh! They need your help! They must be brought to Viborg before Samhain, or they will all be washed away!”

  “Where is this Groningen?” I asked.

  “Over the sea! South and west!” Bergthora cried.

  That seemed a far distance to me. “Do not they have a closer Motherhouse to flee to?”

  “All are lost! They are crying for the Lady of Viborg Motherhouse to come to them!” Bergthora shouted.

  I felt a shudder hit me, as if the lost Groningen sisters’ cries shook my spine.

  Bergthora twitched and fell asleep.

  I set Drifa to watch over the girl and went outside. It was a bright day, filled with the smells of summer. What is Thy will? I asked the Goddess, but She did not answer.

  “Lady, what will you do?” Lybid said.

  I started, for I had not heard Lybid’s steps. When walking in the Sacred Grove, speech was not encouraged. “I know not.”

  “Do you not think you must go to them?” Lybid asked.

  “How would I get there? How would I find them? How would I also not be attacked?” Those were the worries at the top of my mind.

  We paced without talking for quite a while. Finally, Lybid said, “I think I can get help from Lord Khoryn.”

  “What? Why would he help us?” I asked.

  Lybid put her hand on my shoulder, and I did not find the touch comforting. “He is not as rough as you made him sound, Lady. I have found him accommodating and interested in the welfare of the Motherhouse. Let me take this task to him and see what he makes of it. Perhaps he can send you on a trading ship—and mayhap he can offer some protection, as well.”

  I turned away, out of her grasp, but not roughly. After a time, I said, “Go. Speak with Lord Khoryn and hear what he says. I will try to understand if this is reason or folly.”

  I felt that shiver up my spine again. Do I really have to save these girls?

  Later that night, Lybid entered my hut. She pushed back her cloak, dewed from the ride back from Viborg. “Lord Khoryn is so kind! He has offered to send two couriers to pay for the ship. He has traded with the people of Groningen before. The couriers will provide the excuse to be there while you and perhaps a few of your girls go to visit the Motherhouse. Each day, some will return to the ship with you—looking like your own priestesses—until they are all on board, and then you can return home!”

  I sat back on my heels, as I had been on the floor, sorting seeds. Must I go? I asked the Goddess. Still the Goddess did not reply. But there was the shiver up my spine again. If there are priestesses who need my aid, should I not go and help them? What would the Lady have done? What would Jasoslava advise? Why am I not smart enough to know what to do?

  I breathed out a long breath, then said, “I will go at the start of the full moon.”

  Years later, those of you reading this will think what I fool I was! Why would I go on this journey when it was so obviously a trick? I think this now, too. But then, I had only sixteen winters and little experience beyond the Motherhouse. Within the confines of the priestess study, I knew almost nothing about people and how they acted. It wasn’t until my experience in Avalon that I finally could see what happened in Viborg for what it was.

  But even at the time, I had my doubts as to the wisdom of my course.

  Chapter Seven

  A few of my attendants and I left the Motherhouse, bound for the coast. Lybid was to be in charge until I returned.

  I felt sick inside. I had rarely left the confines of the Viborg compound or traveled farther than the town. And now, here I was, wandering off on an uncertain adventure of which I was not sure the Goddess approved.

  I got no comfort from Gavril and ancient Moisey—the couriers sent by Lord Khoryn. After questioning them carefully, I discovered that they had no idea of the road ahead and had never heard of Groningen.

  Our group spent many days walking to the harbor town of Struer. Most nights, we slept by the side of the road. Occasionally, we found a town where they might rent a room for all of us. Few wanted seven strange girls and four men—two were the bearers who ca
rried our things—in their midst, but with a little of Khoryn’s gold, it was possible.

  As the moon waned, Nadezhda—the eldest of my attendants—asked me, “Are you sure this is our path, Lady? I do not mean to criticize, but it seems far to go.”

  I said something meant to soothe, but that night, when everyone was sleeping, I opened myself to the Goddess. I begged the Goddess to tell me if I should go on or turn back.

  Continue.

  It was the first time She had spoken directly to me since before I became the high priestess.

  And so, we pressed on.

  Finally, we reached the harbor. The place was even busier and more chaotic than Viborg. It was some time before we could find someone who said they could take all seven of us to Groningen, although the boat’s master seemed to think it funny we should want to go there. After a week buying provisions and making ourselves ready, with my attendants and bearers, Gavril and Moisey, I boarded the ship. It was odd-looking craft, with a bow that looked a bit like a dragon. Vilna—my youngest attendant—said it was ill-omened, but I reassured her that it was the way of these sea people to trust in their symbols. The boat seemed sound enough. And so, we cast off, headed for the Frisian lands.

  I was sick almost from the moment we cast off. Alas, I had brought no mint to ease queasiness. The others seemed not to mind it so much. The boat’s master seemed amused at my illness.

  Day after day, the ship bobbed along the waves, and the big sail bellied out over the bow. Sun-up to sun down, gray skies hovered over us. Then came an afternoon when the clouds turned blue-black. The sea was choppier still, and waves splashed onto the deck. The sailors ran about, trying to keep the ship going after they brought down the sail. They rowed for hours. I felt the master’s rising worry. He could not see the stars, nor the headlands, nor get an idea of where the wind was coming from, as it shifted hourly.

  We were lost on the great and angry sea, and I was afraid.

  The terrible storm stayed with us eight days. I could barely sit upright to drink water from the dipper Avuta held to my lips. The others also became sick. They huddled below decks with me in the reeking hold.

  The ninth day dawned fair. I went up on deck and took in the air, which seemed scented by the finest pine and peat and sea air I had ever smelled. Nana got me to eat a little wheatcake. I felt well enough to ask the ship’s master where we were and how much longer was our journey.

  He said, “Oh, only a few days now, Lady.”

  But I heard his mind, and he was troubled. He had no idea where we were. He believed the boat had been blown many leagues off course. The headlands were strange to him.

  I did not tell the others what I knew. I only told them what the master said. It seemed to cheer them.

  Just as dusk came on, I heard the crew shouting. I sent Gavril up to the deck to see what the matter was. He took the bearers with him.

  There were loud crashes and banging and thumps all over the ship. Men screamed and prayed out loud. I had never experienced such fear and fierceness as I did from the minds of the men above us.

  “We are under attack,” I told my girls. “Get under these covers or hide behind barrels. Don’t let them see you!” They did as I asked them.

  Large men in animal skins lumbered into the hold. They ripped the canvas off goods and tossed things around. Soon, all the Viborg girls and I were found. The barbarians whooped and yelped like hungry beasts.

  But I saw their intent was not to eat.

  We were dragged up the stairs. There, I was greeted by the awful sight of Gavril’s head loosed from his neck, the dead eyes staring up at the darkening sky. The deck was covered with blood. The barbarians threw two bodies off the side.

  Up from the bow walked a giant of a man. Bald, he was, and missing one eye inside a great gash. He had few teeth, which made his leer all the worse. He spoke in a tongue I did not know, but his intent was plain enough. My girls were swept away by groups of men, and their gowns ripped off. The man-monster made for me.

  I cast the first spell that occurred to me.

  The man-monster grabbed me and started to tear my dress. Then the men started shouting angrily. The monster looked down at his own crotch. His member was as flaccid as a dead worm.

  He roared like an enraged bull, picked up a whip and slashed my face.

  I fell to the deck and knew no more.

  Dawn came. At first, I thought I was caught up in some dream. Surely, I was flying across the water. But then, I realized my arms were tied cruelly up and behind me. My ankles were pinned so that I was spread across the bow of the ship. The sea water felt like tiny saws on the skin beneath the rope.

  And I was so thirsty!

  I pushed down my fear, reminding myself of the late Lady’s teachings: Look to others first. I stretched forth my mind to reach one of my girls.

  Nothing.

  I pushed harder.

  Nothing at all.

  Cautiously, I stretched out my mind to the men. Yes, I could feel their heathen thoughts.

  But my girls were gone.

  I knew in an instant that they were as dead as Gavril. I prayed their ends had been swift, as mine would not be. The monster would punish me for unmanning him and his crew.

  Then a wave rose up and slapped the ship. The salt water seemed to slice apart my face. I screamed and screamed until darkness took me. When I woke again, I could hear the gloating of the monster in the ship behind me.

  I begged the Goddess to kill me.

  But hours later, I was awakened by another wave and the terrible agony.

  Eventually, I could no longer scream. I had no more strength. The pain seemed to color the world. I could not say if it was night or day; my eyes were swollen shut.

  I felt the monster behind me, standing at the bow, just behind the dragon prow. He did not look down at me. He was not interested in me when I did not scream.

  I could see into his mind. And what I saw was the most frightening set of images I had ever beheld.

  Flames erupted in a village, leaping from house to house. Dark figures ran about with swords and knives. There were screams, shrieks, crying, and noises I wasn’t even sure were made by a man or woman. I saw the man-monster rip the head off a baby. A baby! He beat a woman and violated her with his knife! He grabbed a man and split his head open like a melon!

  And it was not enough for him. He wanted more. He wanted to kill and kill and kill, like some sort of vicious monster from folk tales.

  Goddess! I prayed. Save these people! Spare them from this hideous creature! Protect those who obey you!

  Then another wave struck me, and I knew nothing further.

  Chapter Eight

  Priestess of Avalon

  Autumn 557

  Goddess! What is happening to me!

  I jerked awake in a strange place. My body was on fire! My left cheek burned and throbbed. My shoulders felt as if someone had tied my arms to two galloping ponies headed in separate directions. My back was covered with searing patches of pain. I could feel my skin sticking to the bed. My spine shrieked that someone had been trying to wrench it out of my body.

  A dark-haired woman bent over me, saying something in a strange tongue.

  Who are you? I wanted to shout. But only a strange hiss came from my cracked and parched lips.

  The woman’s black eyes bored into mine. I felt her probe my mind.

  Somehow, I have come to be with a powerful priestess. But where am I?

  The woman showed me images of a green place filled with the peace of the Goddess. Then she waved her hand over my eyes, and I fell into a deep sleep.

  Instantly, I was on a tall, white-faced cliff, looking out to sea, trying to spy my homeland, but it was too far away. I tried to locate my Motherhouse with the Sight, but when I looked to the east, all I saw were dark clouds.

  “I want to go home,” I said out loud.

  That way is closed to you now, Anya of the Rus, said a voice behind me.

  “What s
hall I do now? Where is my home if not there?”

  I have provided you with a new home, a new destiny, if you will but choose it.

  “I am afraid.”

  It is frightening to start in a new direction. But I am here with you. Trust in Me, and I will not let you fail. Choose the path I provide and help Me shape this realm’s fate.

  “Who am I to assist you?” For I understood the voice must belong to the Goddess.

  You are you. You are who I need to accomplish a great task. Come, see this great land in which you are now. See if it does not deserve your devotion.

  I turned and beheld a country so beauteous and green it took my breath away. I felt myself lifted high into the air, but I was not afraid. I was flying above the land like a hawk. No! Higher than any bird has ever flown! From that great height, I could see snow-filled mountains and warm fens, great fields and forests, lakes and peat bogs. All around the land was a great thundering sea—it was a large island.

  I wished I were a bard, for I wanted to make up a song to praise the land’s wonders. But I knew nothing I could sing would do it any justice.

  It was a beauteous place, well worth the love of the Goddess.

  Then, I was back at the cliff.

  The people are equally magnificent. They have a destiny they do not yet understand. But it will not happen for many generations yet. It is for that purpose I selected you. Say that you choose this land of Britain.

  “I will, Goddess. I will follow where you lead.”

  I felt a strange power sweep into me.

  Good. Trust in Me. Follow the path I have laid out for you.

  Despite the wonderful dream, I awoke daily, confused and in pain. The dark-haired woman did not appear again. Instead, an old woman with calm, warm hands and a bright green lifeglow soothed my aches. I learned her name was Mabina. The old healer helped me drink cool water or light, hot broths. I smelled the herbs of healing—some I knew, others unfamiliar. But, I could tell I was in the care of a great healer and ceased to trouble myself about the wheres and hows of my condition. All would be revealed in the Goddess’s own good time. What was important was that I was safe and cared for. I turned my energies to healing myself, for even the most skilled cannot cure the unwilling or uncooperative.