Page 99 of The Daughters of Avalon
With cloth and cord of darkest night, I shroud my soul.
Light is the weapon I would wield to keep me whole.
By all on high and law of three,
This is my will, so mote it be.
All of this was so new to her. She hadn’t any way to know what precisely should come of the words, so she waited, listening, until she felt it—water, air and fire, coalescing all about her, binding itself to her diagram, before settling into stillness and silence. Rosalynde inhaled deeply over the feel of it. The unbridled power of nature was exhilarating, and she sensed an impossible world out there, looming. Perhaps once she and Elspeth were reunited, they could study the Book together. With a bit of patience and practice, they might even grow to be as capable as Morwen—albeit far, far less vile. And, regardless, Rhi would be proud of her.
With a satisfied smile, she cast a glance at the mare, then proceeded to conceal her pentacle with bracken—very, very carefully, so as not to disturb themagik.
Although she had so much to learn about the Craft, she had more than enough practice with concealment, particularly from Elspeth. Unfortunately, the warding spell wasn’t a fail-safe. It was still possible for someone to stumble over her while traipsing in the woods, and if they should happen to discover her by accident, it wouldn’t serve her if they suspected sorcery—only how humorous it might be for someone to see a hapless nun sleeping in a witch’s pentacle. The thought alone made her giggle, and she was still giggling as she cozied with the book beneath her cheek. She lay upon the vellum, sobering over the realization that she had so much left to do… For one, Elspeth stillhadn’t any notion Rosalynde was coming. Somehow, there must be some way to reach her sister without using thehud, but she didn’t know how. Nor did she have any inkling how far she had to travel to Aldergh. And, even if she could get there safely, she hoped Elspeth would have some notion how to keep the Book safe. After all, whatevermagikher sister had cast to protect Aldergh, it had been strong enough to make Morwen take note and withdraw.
She rolled her eyes. Her mother would have everyone believing that Malcom Scott had kidnapped Elspeth, and that some accursed malady had swept through Eustace’s camp whilst they were attempting to negotiate with Aldergh’s lord—a malady that coincidentally killed only Morwen’s birds. In the end, Scotia’s king had intervened, arriving with more than three thousand warriors, forcing Eustace’s army to withdraw. But, really, Rosalynde preferred to believe that, for love’s sake, Elspeth had entreated the Goddess and, somehow, her sister had summoned a powerful warding spell—the most powerful kind ofmagikof all,magikborne of love from theaether. And she knew in her heart that Elspeth would never have attempted such a thing if she’d been forced to wed a man she didn’t love. Moreover, only true love could have forced Elspeth to acknowledge herdewineblood.
Of all her sisters, her eldest had the least affection formagik—perchance because she was also the one who’d been forced to watch their grandmamau burn—a penance from their mother dearest, to castigate Elspeth for wronging them by revealing them asdewines.
Elspeth still remembered the day Morwen abandoned them at the priory. With that hateful look in her eyes, she’d squeezed Elspeth’s hand with such fury, and said, “You are the eldest. Do not be tempted. Be certain your sisters are never tempted. Remember what happened to your grandmamau? This, too, willbe your fate, and my fate, should you ever dare to defy me. They will tie you to a wooden stake… and they will burn you till your skin turns black and blisters off your bones.”
Poor Elspeth. Poor, poor Elspeth.What a terrible burden that must have been, and it was little wonder it haunted her still. And yet, after all was said and done, the Goddess had sent her a guardian…
Sighing over the notion, she wished with all her might that she could have a champion as well.
How sweet would that be?
Curling herself into a protective ball, she tucked her knees to her breast, lifted the veil so she could lay her naked cheek against the soft vellum, and took comfort in the feel of the soft, worn leather against her face. By its very presence, she felt the spirits of her brethren…
Tomorrow would be a bright new day.
Everything would be clearer on the morrow… and in the meantime…defend yourselves, sisters.
The worst is still to come.
Trying to ignore the itchy fabric of her gown and fighting the overwhelming desire to remove the wimple and veil, she fell asleep, wondering if her horse’s master had yet to discover his horse was missing. It never occurred to Rosalynde to be concerned that he might find her. It was her mother she most feared, and if she could remain hidden from Morwen, what could she possibly have to fear from an empty-headed man?
How stupid must one be to leave a stableboy guarding one’s horse, and, anyway, unlike Elspeth, Rosalynde had no qualms against usingmagikto defend herself and those she loved. She would call upon the Goddess in a heartbeat, and if she had a sword, she would wield it.
Ye who would harm, ye who would maim,
Proceed and face the same.
Chapter
Seven
Alas my LOVE you DO me WRONG
To cast ME… OFFF… discourteeeeously;
For I… have… loved YOU… soooo LONG
Wilhelm of Warkworth sang as he stumbled, punctuating his ludicrous verses with hiccoughs and burps, his voice echoing down empty streets.
As crowded as the tavern had been, the streets were deserted. Even the least pious must be home, warming themselves by a fire, eating pie and waiting for the Magi.
That Stephen would call anyone to London at such an hour was prickling to say the least, but at least Giles knew the king’s paranoia wasn’t particularly discerning. Even Arundel had been in the City this morn, despite the rumors of his wife’s confinement. And, after all, the lady of Arundel must be content with her match, judging by the brood she was providing d’Aubigny—even while she was still passing messages to herstep-daughter, though he supposed even lovely little spies had dreams of hearth fires.
His thoughts turned to Seren Pendragon.
