‘It’s gone,’ Joanna said, a sob in her voice. ‘It slipped under the waves and they all drowned.’
‘Not all,’ the Domina corrected. ‘Did you not hear the sea birds? The Korrigan flew away to safety as gulls; the Grac’h as terns.’
‘The Grac’h?’
‘We call them the fiery-haired ones; they were the high priestesses of the land.’
Joanna reached deep into her mind, for she was certain that she knew what the land had been called. The Domina waited calmly. Eventually Joanna said, ‘It was Lyonesse.’
And the Domina said, ‘It was. The land held true to the old ways and the men who brought the new faith could not abide that. They came with soldiers and would have slaughtered everyone in the land, down to the youngest baby. So the Grac’h called up the west wind and the waves blew in on the great sea that rose to their bidding. The land was lost to them, that loveliest and most serene of lands, but that was preferable to witnessing its rape and despoliation at the hands of the invader. The Korrigan flew south to the shores of Armorica and they discovered that, although this was no Lyonesse, it was a tolerable substitute.’ The Domina sighed. ‘But still, those of us who remember lament our first home.’
She must, Joanna decided, be speaking figuratively, perhaps of a folk memory that lived on in the people, kept alive by the bards’ retelling of the old legend. Anything else was just impossible. .
As if keen to move on, the Domina said, ‘You also saw something else; the death whose wake you witnessed was that of one of our Great Ones.’
‘Yes,’ Joanna put in eagerly, ‘and I really felt that, given a moment to think, I could have-’
‘And you also saw a vision of your own future,’ the Domina interrupted. ‘This moment that you saw will come soon, for the time for you to take up your skill and your power is at hand.’ Giving Joanna no chance to comment, she went on, ‘We have prepared these things for you. Stand up and take off your tunic and shift.’
Joanna did as she was bidden. Standing naked on the sand, the Domina led her closer to the fire. Huathe came to stand beside her and he poured a clear liquid from a flask into a small cup of gold.
‘Drink,’ the Domina ordered.
Joanna obeyed. The liquid tasted clean and cool, and as the taste developed on her tongue an image of mossy stone around a lively stream came into her mind; she knew then that the water had come from Nime’s spring. Then the Domina pushed her closer to the fire, so close that she feared the flames would singe the fine hair on her body and sear her bare flesh. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to endure it.
The Domina’s cry rang out into the night as she chanted a long string of words whose meaning Joanna could only guess at. It seemed to be a summons, and this was borne out when the Domina switched from whatever archaic tongue she had been using and cried, ‘Hear our prayers, oh Great Ones of Lyonesse, and by the fire and by the water that must one day prevail, receive this woman Beith, who now takes on her new name in recognition of her adoption by her people.’
The fire was scorching now, burning Joanna’s legs and thighs. Forcing herself not to move, the pain quickly became unbearable. Then, as if she had passed some test, the Domina gave an order to Huathe and he dragged her away from the fire, throwing the contents of a skin water bag over the front of her body. As the cold sea water doused the heat in her skin, she gave a cry that had in it more exhalation than pain.
And the Domina nodded, as if to say, well done.
Huathe repeated the sea water bathing several times and then he dried her with a soft cloth. The Domina reached into her pack and produced a clean white shift of fine linen, which Huathe dropped over Joanna’s head. On top of that went the red embroidered tunic of Joanna’s vision; in reality it was even more beautiful because, as well as feasting on it with her eyes, she could also touch the heavy gold embroidery and smell the sweet scent of new cloth. Over the tunic Huathe draped the speckled woollen cloak, fastening it with a gold pin in the shape of a stylised running horse. The cloak was heavy and warm and, at last, Joanna stopped shivering.
Finally the Domina gave her the short, thick stick. ‘This is hawthorn,’ she said, ‘and hawthorn protects from both physical and psychic harm; it will protect you and also those upon whom you wield its power. The wood was gathered on the most auspicious day of the year and the wand has been prepared especially for you.’ Pointing to the brownish-grey crystal embedded in the end of the stick, she continued, ‘This is Caledonian quartz and it is sacred to us. Use it wisely, child.’
She put the wand into Joanna’s outstretched hand. Not knowing what to expect, but anticipating something, Joanna was surprised to find that there was no jolt of energy, no force that made the hairs on her arms stand up. She might as easily have been holding a piece of driftwood.
She heard Huathe chuckle. ‘Do not worry, Beith,’ he said quietly, ‘for when you need the power, it will be there.’
The ceremony was over. Huathe carefully poured sand on the fire, extinguishing it and then burying the embers so that every trace disappeared. The Domina fastened her pack, saying to Joanna, ‘You may wear your finery for what remains of the night. Tomorrow, put it away and revert to anonymity.’
Joanna bowed her acceptance. Standing still barefoot on the sand, she wondered if it was permitted to put her boots on; the tide was coming in and the sand felt damp under her toes.
Huathe gave her a hug. ‘Farewell, Beith,’ he said. ‘We shall meet again, but it may not be for many years.’ He bent and kissed her, twice on each cheek, then, with a low reverence to the Domina, hastened away towards the cliff path. Joanna, who had by his action received the confirmation of what she already suspected — that she was leaving Armorica — looked expectantly at the Domina.
‘Aye, child, you and your daughter are to sail this night back to Britain. The ship will be here soon. But, before you go, I would speak with you on a matter that has been kept from you.’
Several possibilities flashed through Joanna’s mind. When the Domina spoke, it was concerning none of them. Instead she said, ‘Have you not asked yourself why it is that you have been accepted into the tribe?’
Immediately Joanna was reminded of many small moments and incidents; of all the times that her new people had spoken of her as one of them; of the growing sense that they had all known about her long, long before she had been aware of them. She said, ‘Yes. I have.’
‘It is time,’ the Domina said heavily, ‘for you to be told.’
What she learned on the shore that night was such a shock that, when the small boat came grinding up the shingle to carry her and Meggie out to the ship that awaited them, Joanna could barely walk by herself and had to be helped by the two sailors. She felt weak and did not trust herself to take adequate care of Meggie, and the Domina entrusted the child to the sailor who was not engaged in rowing the boat. Joanna heard her daughter give a little cry of protest, but even that could not restore her. The Domina stood on the shore watching as the boat set off towards the ship; she might have been waving, but Joanna did not notice.
What she had just been told had removed, in a few words, everything that she had believed herself to be. The fact of that former identity having been replaced by something far more interesting, and with many times the potential, she managed, for the time being anyway, totally to overlook. .
The ship took her to a place the sailors called Ellan Vannin; the island, set in the seas between England and Ireland to the north of Mona’s Isle, was to be her home until Imbolc. Still in a daze even after four days at sea, Joanna meekly followed the orders that anyone chanced to give her, going ashore into yet another new place and settling into what in fact seemed like better accommodation than she had enjoyed before. Sometimes she would hold on to the bear’s claw on its chain around her neck, as if that alone had the power to reassure her that it was true, not a dream or the last fling of the wonder voyage she had taken on that Armorican beach.