“Look. There is a ship,” Epona said and pointed out toward the water.
We dismounted.
Epona plucked some grass. The wind took it and pulled it behind us. “We have a west wind.” She then took my left hand and lifted it above our heads. She raised her other hand. I mimicked her.
“We call you, wind of the west, wind of love and fertility, and we offer you our love and respect in exchange for your power.”
We both stilled, and the wind continued to blow around us.
“We ask for a fair wind if those upon that ship are friends to our land and country. If those upon that ship mean to do ill to our kinsmen, then whip up your strength and banish them from the sea!”
I channeled my power into Epona’s words, closing my eyes, and let my body feel the wind around me. At first it blew erratically, but then began to blow strong and steady. A firm, good wind pushed from the land to the sea, lending its power to the ship’s sails. In my mind’s eye, I could see the wind whipping around me, sparkling gold.
Epona brought our hands down.
I opened my eyes. “Friend,” I said as I looked out at the water.
Epona nodded and pulled a wine flask from her saddle bag. She took a long drink and handed the skin to me. We rested quietly, and after a while decided it was time to turn back.
My mind was lost to my thoughts as we rode back. Epona, too, was quiet. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking about her wild boy. Who had Epona been before this place?
I sighed heavily. So much was happening. I knew I had come to the grove for training, but I had not expected…well, all of this. It was far beyond any girlish expectation. I felt awed by the world that had opened itself to me. I felt strength under my skin I’d never felt before. That strength made me feel powerful. I felt alive. I felt anger and lust. It was almost like pieces of myself were collecting themselves back to me once again. When I was with Sid, I felt more solid. Banquo ignited feelings I had only ever dreamed of. He was my wild boy, a druid who walked between the worlds. I wanted to be with him…and with Sid. I wanted there to be a place, a world, where we could all be together. I wanted to feel Cerridwen, and the raven wings, and be that part of myself living just under my skin. What would that place look like? What would that life look like? If my visions were true, that life would look like the life of Queen Boudicca, and it was a life I’d already lived.
Chapter 16
I was not visited again by the Wyrd Sisters all that summer, but I remembered my visits to them and began practicing their art. I sought visions in the flames or in the cauldron, looking for what I knew and what I didn’t. Mostly I sought Sid, when she was away from the coven, Madelaine, and Banquo. Once I found Madelaine at Malcolm’s court, the King looking at his half-sister with disinterest. Sid was harder to find. She always appeared like a shimmering silhouette surrounded by hues of green. There were people, glimmering people, near her, laughing, but I could never quite make anyone out. When I found Banquo, I could not see where he was, but around him I often saw darkness and fire. Sometimes I would catch glimpses of the black-haired man, usually at the side of his blond-haired warrior giant friend and at sea. Despite the Wyrd Sister’s words about him being my King, my curiosity had faded. I wanted Banquo, not a phantom.
Thora was growing into her fat little feet, and with the passage of time, she had grown several inches. As Banquo had mentioned, I began teaching her how to track. I started with little things, just hiding objects in my cabin and letting her find them. It wasn’t very long until she seemed expert at the task.
Thora and I were not the only ones growing, changing. It was harvest season. Just days before the autumnal equinox, I woke to find Gwendelofar crying. She was curled up on her bed.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Oh, Cerridwen,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wakes you.”
I slid out of my bed and on hers. I put my arm around her. “What’s happened? Should I get Epona?”
Gwendelofar shook her head.
“What is it, sister?”
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered. “I want the child, but I’ll have to leave, and I have nowhere to go.”
“The father? It’s…Sigurd?”
She nodded glumly. “Oh Cerridwen, think I loves him, but I don’t know where he is or if he loves me! My child is a Beltane babe!”
Gwendelofar was shaking. I took her hands. “Sigurd will be here for the harvest festival any day now. Talk to him. Tell him your feelings. Perhaps he feels the same. The child is merry-begot, which means it will be a special child. Perhaps Sigurd will want to raise the child with you.”
“I don’t know,” Gwendelofar said sadly.
On Beltane, any child conceived is a child of the Stag God, the Father God, the wild man of the forest, not the human father. The human father could not claim and had no right to a merry-begot babe. This also meant the father had no responsibility toward that child. It would solely be on choice, both Sigurd’s and Gwendelofar’s, if they should raise the child together.
“Well, soon you will learn. If not, you will raise the child yourself. Madelaine can find a place for you and your child in her household.”
“Really? You’re sure?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. Knowing Madelaine, I knew I didn’t even have to ask. And with Alister gone, it would be a safer place. Or at least I hoped.
“Fate gives me a mixed blessing,” she whispered, wiping away a tear.
“That’s something fate likes to do,” I answered. I thought of my own mixed blessings—how much I loved Madelaine, but how much I wished I could have been raised by my own parents. But then I remembered, when it had been put to the question, I had once chosen Madelaine over Boite.
That cold winter eve when I had found my father in the snow, we rode back to Alister’s castle, surprising an unsuspecting Madelaine. My father convinced Tavis and I not to announce his arrival. He wanted to surprise his sister.
“This way, father,” I told him, trying to hide the excitement in my voice as I led my father down the hallway to the small sitting room where Madelaine and the others sat sewing beside the fire.
I kept turning again and again to look at him. He was so enormous, like a giant bear in his furs. He smiled kindly at me. Every time I looked at him, I searched his face for myself. And every time, be it the shape of his nose, the line of his brow, or his eyes, I found traces of myself there. When I was with my father, it made me feel like I actually belonged somewhere, to someone. I loved Madelaine, but she was not truly my mother.
“Wait here,” I told my father as I pushed open the chamber door.
Madelaine looked up at me. “Corbie, I’ve been worried. Where did you fly off to, Little Raven?”
“I went to get a present for you.”
“For me?” She set down her sewing and looked at me. “What do you have today? Let me see!”
“It’s quite large,” I told her. “Close your eyes.”
The other ladies in the room suddenly became interested.
Madelaine giggled. “All right, my dear,” she said then closed her eyes.
I opened the door to let my father in. I put my finger to my lips, shushing the other women in the room who all gasped when I led Boite inside. I led him to stand in front of Madelaine.
“Ready?” I asked.
Madelaine wrinkled her nose. “I smell snow.”
“Open your eyes,” I told her.
When Madelaine opened her eyes, a shocked expression crossed her face. She dropped everything and jumped up, wrapping her arms around her brother’s neck. Boite had to hold her by the waist to keep her up.