And at Imbolc he had summond her. Now, turning her mind back to that night, the Domina saw them together, the young woman and the man bear, as she had watched them before. She did not need to spy on them to know what they were doing; the act that had taken place between them had been predestined from the moment that he gave Joanna the claw.
He had returned to his people after his long, long absence. He had disappeared ages ago, in a time that nobody living now recalled and that was only remembered — and given great reverence — in the songs of the tribe. Oh yes, he had come to them before, lived among them, walked and breathed as a normal man for most of those far-off and magical days. But they had all known, all of his people, just what was special about him. Some of them thought they had even seen him shift from man to bear and back again, only afterwards they could never be quite sure because of the speed with which he did it. Bears there certainly had been back then, living alongside men. Who could in truth say what had happened?
Somebody could. Somebody had known without a doubt, for he had appeared to her as he had done to Joanna. Had lain with her, many times, had impregnated her, had watched her carry and then bear the child Ursus, who grew up to wear the blazon of the Scarlet Bear upon his shield. Who had himself given rise to a great warrior line whose deeds were still sung of by the bards and who would for ever retain a place in the hearts of their people.
Deep in her trance, the Domina turned her mind to seek out the bear man. After a long time, she felt that her consciousness brushed his. Seeing his bright eyes behind her closed lids, she asked him what she must ask. And, in time, she felt that she heard his reply.
In the morning the Domina rose early and set out on the track that led to the temporary camp. Approaching the shelter where Lora was tending Meggie, she stood outside, not speaking. Her very presence was a summons; Lora quickly got to her feet and bowed.
‘It is time,’ the Domina said. She held out her arms and Lora bent to pick up the child, wrapped in her furs. Without another word, the Domina turned and left the clearing. Lora, watching her go, found that she was praying. Please, Great Mother, make it all right. Please look after Meggie. .
Then, with a faint shrug, she ducked and went back inside the shelter to empty the bowl of warm water with which she had been washing the baby when the Domina came for her. It is up to you now, Mother, she thought. I have done all that I can.
The Domina carried Meggie for many hours. When the child was hungry, the Domina drew from inside her robe a silver flask containing a mixture of honey, water and certain herbs that she had prepared herself. Dipping her finger in the flask’s wide neck, she offered the liquid to the baby. Each time Meggie took it eagerly. Each time it satisfied both her hunger and her thirst.
A little after noon they came to a place where an outcrop of sandstone soared up among the trees. Viewed from a distance, it had the appearance of the top of a huge head standing out among the branches. To one side of the outcrop, some ancient, natural force had carved out a cave. It extended some ten or fifteen paces back inside the Earth and its sandy floor was dry.
The Domina found her way to the cave entrance with ease. It was she who had discovered it, many years ago. She knew it was a place of strong Earth power and she had tucked away a memory of it in her mind, knowing that, one day, it would be useful.
She stood in the shelter of a large boulder that stood beside the cave entrance. Then, absolutely silent in her movements, she peered around the boulder. A hearth had been set out a couple of paces inside the cave mouth. The fire was low now, although there was a neat stack of small logs nearby. Beside the fire was the skinned body of a hare, wrapped in a variety of leaves, all of which the Domina knew to be edible and reasonably nutritious.
Good. The occupant of the cave certainly seemed to have remembered how to live out in the wildwood.
The Domina went on into the cave. Bedding was rolled up and tucked away on a rock shelf where it would stay dry in case of a sudden shower that blew rain inside the cave. Another lesson well learned.
Meggie stirred in her arms. The Domina debated whether to give the child some more of the mixture in the silver flask but decided against it.
She found a boulder close to the hearth and sat down to wait.
It was the baby who noticed first. The Domina, gazing down at Meggie’s wide eyes, felt the child’s sudden unnatural stillness and she knew. Old as she was, she who had seen human beings interact with the Earth and with each other for more decades than she could now recall, still there was room in her heart for wonder. Great Mother, she prayed silently, what a gift you have bestowed upon us in the bond that ties mother to child, child to mother.
Because someone else also now knew who awaited her by the hearth. Breaking into a run, dropping her carefully gathered herbs from hands that suddenly didn’t care, Joanna came racing into the clearing, around the great outcrop and into the cave. Ignoring the Domina, eyes only for her baby, she cried, ‘Meggie! Oh, my sweetest child!’ and the ache and longing in her voice brought tears to the Domina’s old eyes.
She gave mother and baby a few moments simply to rejoice in each other. Then, observing the wet stains that were spreading over the front of Joanna’s robe, she said, ‘You have kept yourself in milk?’
‘Yes,’ Joanna replied.
Good, the Domina thought again. For all that she had no idea what was to come, she kept hope alive. She kept her milk flowing, in case her child should be returned to her.
‘Then I think,’ said the Domina, ‘that you had better feed her.’
Looking up at her briefly, with a quick smile Joanna opened her robe and did so.
Joanna had been living in the cave for a month. The Domina had sought her out in the forest and taken her there.
She had not known why this terrible thing was happening to her. She had been ordered to pack a small amount of essential kit — warm sleeping furs, her knife, her flint, a light drinking vessel — and told that she must leave Meggie behind. Her heart almost breaking, Joanna had obeyed. The Domina’s dark eyes had compelled her, and there was no question of rebellion.
As they had walked the long miles to the cave, Joanna had a dreadful thought. When she had found Utta, when, later, she had done what she had to do to save not only Utta but herself and Meggie too, she had believed that act to be what the Domina had prophesied: What you have done before you can do again. Now she quaked with fear that it was not what the Domina had meant at all.
That what she had referred to was the giving up of a child.
Joanna had asked Josse to find a household for her son Ninian and, having let the boy go, she had known she would never see him again other than in the black depths of her scrying stone.
Was this, then, the second test that she must pass? The abandoning of her second child, her daughter, her Meggie, her beloved?
Not daring to ask, she had followed the Domina along the forest paths with silent tears coursing down her face.
When they reached the cave that was to be Joanna’s dwelling place, the Domina said, ‘You have taken life. Two souls have you sent into the abyss. Concerning the first, I know all that I need to know, for you have already told me and I have seen it. I know that you told me no lies. Concerning the second, I wish you now to explain.’
So, sitting on the sandy floor of a cave, lost so far within the forest that she knew she would never find her way out, Joanna told her tale. She told of how she had found the woman, Utta, and taken her back to the hut in the forest to look after her. How she had discovered the sickening brand on the woman’s forehead and known that H meant heretic. How she had taken fright and removed Utta, Meggie and herself to the safety of the refuge in the yew tree.