The next night was the Night of Ending, the last night of a very eventful year. Snow fell heavily that day, so Gabria spent much of it working on her gift for Amara, cutting pieces of soft leather and stitching them together into the shape of a horse. She worked late into the night to sew a mane and tail, stuff the little body, and color it black with soot from her fire.
When she was finished she set the horse on the altar and knelt to voice her thanks. It had been a very long year, and she hoped the next one would not be as difficult. As she raised her hopes to Amara, a cold gust of wind swept through the window, setting Gabria’s fire leaping. She shivered. Hurriedly she banked her fire and crawled into her warm coverings. At dawn the priestess would be coming to the temple to perform the ceremony of prayers for the new year. Gabria did not want to make the situation uncomfortable, and she planned to be away before daybreak. She fell asleep to the sound of the wind humming around the temple.
Gabria had only been asleep a few hours when Nara’s thoughts brought her bolting awake. Gabria, the priestess comes.
The sorceress frantically leaped to her feet and grabbed for her boots and cloak. Outside she heard Nara neigh a greeting to the Khulinin priestess and her acolytes. Gabria saw through the window that a faint golden light rimmed the hills to the east and glimmered on the snow that blanketed the ground.
She stuffed her feet into her boots and shoved her belongings into the corner. She was about to dash out when the priestess and two young women entered the temple.
The women’s eyes widened when they saw Gabria. The priestess’s gaze was turned only to the altar and the window facing the rising sun.
Gabria knew she should slip out now, for most priestesses did not allow the uninitiated to attend this ceremony, let alone a woman under banishment. Yet she hesitated, drawn by the grace and beauty of the priestess at her altar.
At that moment the priestess, without turning around, said, “Stay.”
The acolytes looked shocked when they realized who she was talking to, but the priestess had already begun the prayers and they did not dare interrupt.
Gabria was pleased. She pressed back into her corner and knelt as the acolytes knelt.
Softly at first, like the light that began the morning, the priestess chanted her prayers to Amara the Mother, goddess of love, life, and birth. As the light intensified and the stars dimmed, her chants grew clearer, more joyful. The priestess’s green robes glowed in the morning light and swayed gently with her body while she sang. Her long grizzled hair flowed loose to her waist, like a maiden’s.
The fiery rim of the sun edged over the plains, and its pure light poured directly into the stone temple. The priestess’s voice rose to a song of greeting, and the acolytes’ voices joined hers with triumph.
Although Gabria did not know the words of the prayers, she felt their meaning sweep through her mind and carry her to the heart of her feelings. As the light of the sun warmed her face, she raised her hands and hummed the tune of the invocation, sending her own thoughts of gratitude to the goddess who nurtured her .
The prayers came to a last song of hope when the sun parted from the far horizon. Only then did the priestess lower her arms. Standing in the blaze of sunlight, she turned to face the other three women, her wise face still glowing with her joy.
She gave a slight nod to the sorceress kneeling in a corner lit by the sun.
“Thank you, sisters, for your help,” she said to the acolytes, then added, “Lady Gabria, Amara shines her light upon you.”
The acolytes gasped, and one said, “Mistress, remember the law.” The priestess lifted her hands to the sunlight. “Here in Amara’s temple, I am the law. Please go outside and wait,” she told them. “I will join you in a moment.” The two women walked out, keeping their gazes firmly on the ground.
Gabria slowly stood. “Thank you for asking me to stay.”
“I’m pleased you did. This only confirms my belief that you hold the goddess’s favor.” The priestess paused to study Gabria from head to foot. “You are looking well.”
“I am feeling fine,” Gabria said eagerly, “although I was ill for a while. It was miserable. I didn’t have the strength to leave my bed. I think I remember Piers coming once, but that time is rather blurred.” She broke off, and her eyes went to the round window where the light was pouring into the room. “It’s strange. It seems more than just a fever was healed within me. I feel as if a great weight has gone from my mind.”
The priestess nodded. “Your experiences last summer would have exhausted a seasoned warrior. I knew you were worn thin when you left the treld. Your voice was full of bitterness and defeat. I do not hear that anymore.”
“I don’t feel it. It’s ironic. The time I’ve spent in the temple was supposed to be a punishment. Instead, it has been the best healing I could have had.”
“Lord Athlone will be pleased to hear that,” the woman said, her eyes were warm with pleasure. “He has worried constantly about you and misses you sorely.”
Gabria smiled to herself. “And I him.” She colored slightly and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk so much. It’s just nice to see another person.”
“There is no need to apologize. I am glad to listen.”
“Before you go, could you tell me how the clan is faring?”
The priestess caught the faint note of loneliness in Gabria’s voice. “The clan does well. This mild weather has been a blessing. The herds are healthy and everyone is keeping busy.” She paced to the window and looked out at the snow.
“I haven’t seen much of Lord Athlone lately,” the priestess went on. “He has been working with Lord Koshyn of the Dangari and Lord Sha Umar of the Jehanan to restore clan unity.” Her wise face looked troubled. “Lord Medb did more damage than he ever imagined when he tried to conquer the twelve clans. Our people were not meant to be ruled by a single overlord. We’re too different from one another. Now the people who sided with Medb are fearful and defensive, the ones who fought against him are angry and resentful, and those who ran are ashamed. Lord Athlone is worried that all of this will tear the clans even further apart. He has been communicating with every chieftain on the plains to help soothe the angry feelings. It has kept him quite busy.”
“I hope they can resolve some of these problems before the clans gather this summer at the Tir Samod,” Gabria said.
“So do I. We do not need another war,” The priestess stopped as something else occurred to her. “There was another piece of news I heard. It’s only a rumor, but Branth may be in Pra Desh.”
“Branth!” Gabria spat the name. “That murderer. I had hoped he was dead.”
“Apparently not.”
“Has Athlone said anything about Branth’s whereabouts?”
The priestess replied, “Not that I know of. He might be waiting for more reliable information.”
Gabria shook her head absently and stared at the floor while she pondered the priestess’s news.
After a moment, the priestess went to the altar and studied the gifts lying to the side. A knowing smile touched her mouth. She picked up the little black horse. “Yours?”
Gabria looked up. “Nara is pregnant.”
“Indeed. Then I shall take this and add the mare to my prayers.”
The sorceress walked over to the altar. “Aren’t you going to take the other gifts?”
“Those, young woman, are for you.”
“Me!” Gabria gasped.
“There is a small but growing belief among the women that you are the blessed of Amara. There have been five births this season and all have been successful. Some women attribute that to your continued presence in the temple. They have brought these gifts to you.”