“And those children you think might have the ability to serve as Banes you put to the test when very young?” Faraday’s tone was hard enough to leave no-one in doubt about what she thought about putting children through such a frightful experience.
“Faraday, life is sometimes cruel. We grieve for those children who are lost, for every one of them is precious to us. But without Banes to conduct the rites, the rites would lapse, and then the seasons would falter and the land would die.”
“But why so young?” Faraday asked. “Shra cannot be above three.”
“It is vital that we bring those children who have passed the test to the Mother to be presented while they are very young, otherwise their talents will not grow as they should.”
“Why do you call this lake the Mother, Raum?”
Raum smiled and looked out over the lake. “Because it is said that life originated within this lake. For us, it is very magical. It is the beginning of a Bane’s true life.”
For a long time no-one said anything. But then Faraday frowned. “Raum? How do you get here? Do you come across the Seagrass Plains of Skarabost?”
Raum nodded. “Every year or so we try to bring several children out to bathe them in the waters of the Mother. But we must travel at night and move as stealthily as we can. We avoid contact with humans. Skarabost is a sparsely populated region and most people remain inside after dark. We are helped in this by a woman of your race who lives with the Icarii. Some years she comes down to help us bring the children through. Because she is of your race she can travel openly with a well-cloaked child or two and attract little comment.” He shrugged. “But it is hard. And we have not been able to bring as many children to the Mother as we would have liked. In the best of times we have hardly enough Banes to conduct the rites, but, now, as the seasons begin to fail around us and the land dies underneath its unnatural cover of snow and ice, we do not have the number of Banes to even attempt to halt the rot. Over the past few years, as the danger from the north has grown, we have tried to bring as many children through as we can…but it is hard, it is very hard.”
Faraday opened her mouth to ask about the woman who lived with the Icarii, but Jack’s voice leaped in before she had a chance to speak. “Bane, what do you mean? What has been happening in the Avarinheim?”
“Over the past two years, particularly this past year, the Skraeling wraiths from the northern wastes have been wandering in everincreasing numbers along the border of the Avarinheim. They do not trouble us much because they still remain afraid of the trees, but it is worrying nevertheless. And, as you can see, the weather dies around us. There has been talk among us and the Icarii that the Prophecy of the Destroyer has awoken; none of us want to believe it…but,” despair shone from his eyes, “your presence and words tell me that Gorgrael has indeed been born and that even now he prepares to spread his hatred southward. Tell me, if you can, have you found the StarMan? Will he save us?”
Again Faraday opened her mouth, but Jack silenced her with a hard look. “He still lies trapped within the lies that bind, Bane Raum, and it will be many long seasons before he can ride to Tencendor’s defence. All we can do is trust in the wisdom of the Prophecy.”
“I fear that the Skraelings, driven by Gorgrael, will launch their major attack through the north of Ichtar this winter, Raum,” Yr said quietly. “I doubt if the Acharites alone will stop them. Do you think the Icarii will help?”
Raum massaged his forehead. For a moment Faraday thought she could see two tiny knobs of bone glistening within his hair, but then thought she must have been deceived by the low light.
“Would the Acharites accept their help, Sentinel? Or would they slaughter the Winged Ones before they had a chance to assist?” Raum said finally.
His words made Faraday wonder if perhaps she might have more than one role to play in Gorkenfort.
Timozel stood, riveted with fear. “My name is Timozel,” he whispered, “and I do not want to be here.” He closed his eyes as tight as he could, relieved that at least his eyelids still obeyed his conscious thought. He did not want to see what it was that stepped out from behind the door. “Timozel,” the disgusting voice said slowly, as if its tongue had trouble with such a multi-syllabled word. “You are a pretty boy. What magical path did you walk to find me, Timozel?” Timozel did not know what the voice was talking about; all he did know was that he dared not open his eyes. He wondered if he was going to be killed as he stood there. “Timozel. Will you be my friend, Timozel? I would like an Axe-Wielder for my friend.” The request was so strange and so unexpected that Timozel’s eyes flew open. In front of him stood the most horrific and disgusting creature he’d ever seen. He screamed with such intensity that the kind blackness came to claim him again.
30
THE MOTHER
As night fell Raum advised Faraday to take Shra and try to get a few hours’ sleep before the ceremony at the Mother. Faraday looked for guidance to Jack and Yr, but they told her to trust Raum in whatever he asked her to do, so Faraday cradled the sleepy child in her arms and curled up in one of the blankets. The last thing she saw before finally drifting off into sleep was Jack, Yr and Raum sitting around a small campfire, deep in conversation.
Raum shook her awake some hours later. “It is time,” he said softly. Faraday sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was very cold and she shivered when the blanket fell from her shoulders. For once the cloud cover had blown away and the stars wheeled above them in their countless thousands, while the full moon floated fat and complacent just above the peaks of the mountains. Faraday woke the child who, uncomplaining, wrapped her arms about Faraday’s neck as the young woman hefted her into her arms. “Where are Jack and Yr?” she whispered.
Raum nodded to the tree line and Faraday could just make out the huddled forms of the two Sentinels as they sat and watched under the nearest of the trees. “They will not disturb us,” Raum said softly. “Now, do not say another word unless I ask it of you. Are you ready?”
Faraday nodded silently.
“Then come.” Raum turned his back and started to walk down to the lake. Some twenty paces before the water’s edge he stopped and turned to Faraday and Shra. “We must take our clothes off here,” he said. “The Mother demands that we meet her as naked as the day we were born.”
Faraday opened her mouth to protest, but Raum’s eyes bored into her own so fiercely that eventually she nodded stiffly and slipped Shra out of her tunic and leggings. Putting the still placid child down on the ground, she slipped out of her rough woollen dress. The shock of the night air on Faraday’s naked skin instantly raised gooseflesh and she shivered as she folded her dress. Unbidden by Raum, but feeling it was the right thing to do, Faraday unpinned her hair and shook it down her back. Turning around and picking Shra up again, Faraday averted her eyes from Raum’s nakedness and was grateful that the dark of the night hid her own hot face. She suddenly thought about what her mother would have said about this, and for an instant her eyes stung with painful tears, but she blinked them away. Hugging the child to her, Faraday followed Raum down towards the water.
Raum turned as they reached the water’s edge. “Remember, no sound unless I ask you. Put Shra down. She will have to stand on her own for this.”
As Faraday slid the child down onto her feet, Raum quickly stooped and picked up something from a large flat rock at his feet. Faraday’s eyes widened as she realised that he held a large hare in one hand and a sharp bone knife in the other. Again Raum’s eyes met her own and Faraday bit her lip to stop herself from saying anything. Although its flickering ears indicated that it was still alive, the hare lay virtually motionless in Raum’s arm.
“Thank you,” he whispered almost inaudibly to the hare, “for this sacrifice that you are willing to make for us. Tonight, you will join with the Mother.” Then, hefting the bone knife in his other hand, he made a long slit down into the hare’s chest cavity. Blood welled out of the deep gash and shone darkly in the moonlight. Placing
the knife back on the stone again, Raum dipped the fingers of one hand into the blood and bent down to Shra.
“With this blood, freely given by friend hare, I bind you with the Mother. Will you promise to serve her, to aid her, and never betray her?”
“I do so swear,” Shra lisped, and Faraday realised that they were the first words she had heard the child speak.
“Then may the paths to the Sacred Grove always remain open to your feet, Shra,” Raum said gently. He ran the fingers of his bloodied hand lightly along her face and chest, leaving three parallel lines running down her body. “With this blood you are bound.”
Raum rose and faced Faraday. “With this blood, freely given by friend hare, I bind you with the Mother. Will you promise to serve her, to aid her, and never betray her?” Raum asked.
Faraday thought of her eighteen years of utter devotion to Artor and her complete trust in the Seneschal. She wondered what she was doing, how she could possibly have found herself in this situation? She opened her mouth to say the words, but for a moment nothing would come out. Gaping helplessly, she wondered if she should run, run as fast and as far as she could. Then, just as she was about to break from Raum’s stare, Faraday remembered how she had felt at the Star Gate, how she had thought then that Artor was totally insignificant compared to the deeper mysteries of the Forbidden. There was more to life, and more beautiful, than the Seneschal’s Way of the Plough.
“I do so swear,” she said softly. Raum dipped his fingers into the blood again and raised them to her face, tracing three long trails of warm clotted blood down her forehead and the length of her face so that one trail ran down her nose and mouth to the point of her chin and the other two ran down either cheek.
“Then may the paths to the Sacred Groves always remain open to your feet, Faraday.” Raum ran his fingers down Faraday’s chest, leaving one trail of blood down her sternum, and the other two trails tracing down her breasts to her nipples. “With this blood you are bound.”
Faraday closed her eyes, repulsed by the feel of the warm slick blood on her breasts, unable to stop herself remembering the feel of the hot blood as it had splattered and run down her breasts in her vision. When she opened them again Raum was still staring at her, but his eyes were sympathetic and Faraday realised he understood the feelings the blood had stirred in her. Feeling empowered as somewhere deep within her the Mother enriched her new daughter with strength and courage and understanding. Her doubts and fears faded.
Raum spoke gently. “Faraday, will you honour me with the Mother’s marks?” He held the hare out slightly away from his body.
Faraday, no longer afraid or even cold, dipped her fingers into the hare’s chest cavity, realising with a start that the animal’s heart was still beating. She raised her dripping fingers and marked Raum as he had her, and then smiled at him. “May this blood renew your bonds with the Mother,” she said, “and may your feet hold firm to the paths of the Sacred Grove.”
Raum smiled at her, pleased that she had bonded so well, and then reached down to the hare and tore its living heart out with an abrupt twist of his hand.
“Mother, with this heart’s blood may you wake for us this night,” he cried into the still night, hurling the still quivering heart into the lake. As soon as the heart and its blood drops spattered across the surface of the water the entire lake burst into a luminous deep emerald glow—the lake became a vast bowl of light. The sight was so beautiful that Faraday was unable to stop a gasp of wonder.
Raum turned from the lake, tossing aside the carcass of the hare, and touched Faraday’s shoulder gently, his eyes reflecting the emerald light. “Behold the Mother,” he smiled at her.
Faraday could not tear her eyes from the spectacular scene before her. The emerald lake lit up the entire mountain, and even the stars in the night sky reflected some of the luminous colour of the water. Power seemed to vibrate from the lake, calling to Faraday, and at last she turned her eyes toward Raum in mute appeal.
“Yes,” he whispered. “It is time to present you to the Mother.” He leaned down to pick up Shra and then held out his hand for Faraday. “Take my hand, Faraday, and walk with me and Shra through the Mother and into the Sacred Grove. Be welcomed.”
Faraday grasped his warm hand, and then they slowly began to walk down into the water.
Timozel again felt himself being pulled into the nightmare and he struggled against it, fought with his entire being until he thought that his heart would burst from his body, but it made not a whit of difference. He forced his eyes open. The hideous part-man, part-bird, part-beast stood before him, a full head taller than Timozel, and five times his weight in muscle. Power radiated from the creature’s silver eyes and again it reached out a hand (or was it a claw?) in entreaty. “Timozel, will you be my friend?” it simpered. With what he thought would be his dying breath Timozel summoned what was left of his courage and screamed, “No! I would rather spend eternity in the fire pits of the AfterLife than be your friend!” The creature bellowed with rage, and clawed hands reached for Timozel.
As they stepped into the lake Faraday felt no sensation of wetness, only of power. It throbbed all about her, and she wondered what it would feel like when she was completely submerged. Raum’s fingers tightened about her hand, but she smiled at him reassuringly, and stepped confidently by his side. Shra reached her plump arms out into the emerald lake, laughing with joy. As they walked further the emerald glow rose further up their bodies until it had reached the level of their chests. Raum held Shra so that her head still floated above the line of power. “Come,” he said, and dipped beneath the surface of the lake, pulling Shra and Faraday down with him.
Faraday did not feel a moment’s tension or worry as the surface of the lake closed over her head. She could still breathe without any effort and, as the lake bed fell away beneath her feet, she found that she could walk completely suspended in the deep emerald light without any support. She looked about her in amazement. Raum, Shra and herself were completely enclosed in the light and all traces of the shoreline and night sky had totally disappeared.
Raum looked at her, the blood on his face and chest burning blackly in the eerie glow; she turned away again and they walked further and further into the light.
Gradually Faraday became aware of a change in the light; it was growing darker and shadowed in some places, lighter in others. She again had the sensation that she was actually walking on solid ground and when she looked down she realised that her feet were walking through soft, ankle-high grass. The blurred green shapes about her resolved themselves into tall trees and after a lingering glow of emerald, all traces of the lake disappeared and Raum, Faraday and Shra found themselves walking down a narrow path through a deep forest. Overhead the stars spun through the night sky in a dazzling display of power beyond that which any man or woman could hope to hold.
Faraday felt very happy, very contented. She took a deep breath of complete exultation; she had seen the Star Gate, and now she had not only seen the Mother, the Fernbrake Lake, but this time she had been permitted to walk through. She had been blessed. At her side Raum felt her rapture, he lifted their joined hands and pressed the back of her hand against his chest for a moment. Shra reached down and grasped their hands and then all three of them laughed together for sheer joy.
The path led them, as Faraday somehow suspected it might, into the grove of her dream; except this was no dream. Raum stopped them at the edge of the large circular grove and motioned them to wait, then he walked into the centre of the clearing, raised his arms above his shoulders, hands extended palm-up to the night sky, and spoke in a strong, clear voice. “Sacred Horned Ones, I bring you greetings from Avarinheim, and I present to you Shra and Faraday, who have passed through the terror of the forest and have been cleansed and blessed by the Light of the Mother.” He turned and held his hands out for Shra and Faraday to join him. “One will grow tall and strong and will walk the shaded paths of Avarinheim, serving the Mother and your Sacre
d Selves, and the other will walk in the shadow of the Prophecy of the Destroyer and will, if her strength prevails, bring us through the other side. Please, Sacred Ones, step forth and grant both Shra and Faraday the courage of your strength and your blessing.”
Faraday, standing at Raum’s side, started to tremble with the sheer drift of power through the Grove. She could see forms slipping through the shadows of the surrounding trees and feel eyes slide over her naked body. It was strange that no fear, only exhilaration, filled her. She sensed that the same exhilaration filled Raum. She reached out a trembling hand and touched his hairline where she had earlier thought she had glimpsed little knobs of bone…there…they were the infant nubs of antlers. Raum turned his head slightly and looked at her. “Eventually I hope and pray to take my place with the Horned Ones,” he whispered. Faraday smiled at him. “You will,” she said softly, “you will.”
When she dropped her hand and turned her head back to the Grove she saw that nine of the Sacred Horned Ones had joined them, standing in a rough semi-circle some paces away. All had the muscular bodies, virtually naked save for brief loincloths, that supported the magnificent stag heads and antlers. Most had thick brown or black pelts that grew down over their shoulders and midway down their backs. One of the Horned Ones had a striking silver pelt instead of the brown or black. Liquid-black eyes, like Raum and Shra’s, gazed at her. All exuded tremendous power.
The silver-haired Horned One stepped forward, holding his hands out in greeting. “Welcome Shra, welcome Faraday. And welcome again to Raum, who serves us so well in the Avarinheim and with the Mother.” He leaned forward and rubbed cheeks with Raum, picked up Shra to do the same with her, then stepped over to Faraday.
“Tree Friend,” he said. “We are pleased beyond telling that you are finally here.” He grasped her hands and leaned close. His furred cheek brushed briefly against Faraday’s cheek, and her skin thrilled at the touch.