The Priestess of Camelot Read online

  “How horrid! Whyever for?” I asked.

  “To have a king who is wholly his creature, who will do his bidding,” she said.

  “To what purpose?” I asked.

  “Merlin wishes to have all of Britain as his own—the physical and spiritual realms! But I will thwart his desires—see if I do not!” Morgaine thundered.

  I was puzzled. “Why do you allow him to come to Avalon at all?”

  “It is a little game we play,” Lady Morgaine said. The flame jewel sparkled redly upon her breast. “I believe he checks on me to see if he can spot how I will eventually defeat him. I let him come, because I wish him to become complacent. To trust me. That way, my eventual victory will be all the sweeter!”

  Her eyes were wild in the firelight. As if a different creature entirely lived behind them.

  But I said, “You are wise to keep him coming back. Mayhap he will boast of his plots, and then you will have your proof.”

  “Exactly!” she pulled me up to her and hugged me. There was a fierceness in her. “That’s why I like you, Anya. You see the subtle uses of power.”

  “I am glad if anything I say may please you, Lady.” And I meant that. But I was also worried about the feeling I was getting from her. There was a dangerous brittleness radiating from her. I fell as if I was too far out on a pond with chancy ice, and I could hear it crack and groan beneath my feet.

  She kissed me, hard and quick, and it was almost like a bite. I felt my love being taken from me roughly. It was frightening, but also exciting—as so much of my time alone with her was. She gripped my breasts hard—almost painfully. I took her nipples gently, caressing them until I felt them stiffen.

  She let me go. “Undress. Climb into bed. I have something special this night.”

  I tingled with anticipation. The Lady Morgaine was an inventive lover, and I was wet before I could struggle out of my shift.

  I could hear her humming an odd sort of tune. Is it a spell? It was not one I was familiar with. As I got into bed, she joined me, and I undressed her, kissing her all over. She allowed me to make love to her and quickly reached climax. As soon as she did, she got out of bed and retrieved something.

  “Lie down, Anya. Now you shall see what I have for you.”

  Faintly, I felt the crackle of magick. “What is it, Lady?”

  With a wild smile, she revealed an item that had been hidden under a cloth on the table.

  “Ah! An olisbos!” We used such things in Viborg.

  “Yes, but look,” she said.

  And I realize it was a double, so that two women might pleasure each other at once. “How clever!”

  Lady Morgaine hummed the strange song louder, and we began to make love in a way we never had. I tingled all over in an odd sort of way. Yes, intense pleasure. Desire. I wanted her. But there was more. A mad feeling. A warning in the back of my mind. But I dismissed it, because I craved her so.

  The hummed tune became louder, in time with the movement of her pelvis.

  I felt something strange and looked down …

  Morgaine had a penis as real as any man’s!

  I tried to get away, to remove myself from this wrongness. But I could not. I was held fast by the look in her eye—a dark flame that pinned me. The magick being woven would not let me go.

  And, Goddess help me, I gave in to it. Felt her go deep. I cried out in pleasure and desire with each thrust. The lust I felt was the most intense I had ever experienced. As if I could lay with an army of men and women and never tire.

  At last she collapsed onto me, sweaty and panting, but chuckling. I cuddled into her neck, almost too tired to think.

  She whispered into my ear, “Now you see my power. I can be anything I wish.”

  And that one statement terrified me as nothing else had that night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Perhaps because I was so visible, the young initiates always knew where to find me. It seemed my time spent studying with them, my willingness to let them tease me, had made me fast in their affections. And so, they brought me all their little problems: from how the priestess Beatha, who taught spellcasting, was picking on one girl, to how homesick another girl was, to another initiate who suffered terrible pains from her moon blood. Mostly, I listened and only offered a few pieces of advice. Those who needed my cures got them promptly.

  In some ways, it felt like the old days in Viborg. I had enjoyed being the Lady, admittedly. Directing the other priestesses and initiates was natural to me. And I felt that they obeyed out of love, not duty. These young ones coming to me felt, in some ways, familiar.

  So slowly I did not at first notice, more girls came to me. Many spent the whole day, when they were not in lessons. Often times, I could hardly get anything done in the garden or still room for all the young girls standing around chattering.

  Mabina seemed amused. She took to calling our hut “the little Motherhouse.”

  One day, Fianna came to the healer’s hut. Storm clouds were on her brow. I did not like the distrust in her eyes. “The Lady commands you to come,” she said curtly.

  “Commands?” I asked Mabina, more than worried. I had not heard Lady Morgaine call to me in mindspeech. Nor, come to think of it, had she called for me in almost a moon.

  I felt her fear before Mabina even spoke. “That bodes ill. Go. Offer your humility and obeisance.”

  I hurried to the Lady’s croft, and entered, prostrating myself. “How may I serve you, my Lady?”

  Lady Morgaine was standing by the fire. Her lifeglow was all red with streaks of brown, and was larger than her body. I felt her anger filling the room. She did not give me leave to get up. “Get out,” she told the other priestesses.

  They scurried away as if she was pursuing them with a threshing fork.

  “Why are the young initiates following you around, Anya?” Lady Morgaine demanded.

  Stomach turning to acid, I said from the floor, “I am not quite sure, Lady. I believe it has to do with my having studied with them. Although I am a priestess, they also see me as a fellow initiate. You recall how uncertain it is to be studying the rites.”

  Lady Morgaine took a seat and indicated I might take the stool opposite her. She sat far back in her chair, so the firelight did not fully illuminate her face. “You encourage this?”

  It was hard for me to know her reaction, since I could not read her thoughts. Whence comes this anger, and how may I make peace? “I admit I have not discouraged them. They come to me for help with their problems and I assist. I think that is my nature, as a healer—I wish to ease pain however it is expressed.”

  She made a noise like an angered cat.

  I said, “I have been on the lookout for any attempt to use me to get in your good graces, if this is your concern, Lady. I would never allow such a dishonor. Your leadership is so very important.”

  Slowly, the Lady Morgaine’s frown smoothed out. I felt her mind reaching out to me. I threw open the doors there, and allowed her in. I hid nothing.

  After a time, she said, “I want you to restrict your time with these girls. Their purpose here is to learn to serve the Goddess, not sit around whining in a gaggle,” she ordered.

  “It will be as you say, Lady.” I would do anything she asked. She was the Lady, and I, a mere healer.

  “Now, why don’t we play with our favorite toy,” she purred.

  When next the girls began to gather, I explained to them Lady Morgaine did not approve of so many of them being with me. That they could not come to me in a group.

  “But surely, we may come to you individually. She can’t have meant for you not to talk to anyone!” Wynnie, a girl who was nearing the end of her training, said.

  I paused and looked to Mabina for guidance. She shrugged. “I assume I am allowed to speak to others in numbers not exceeding two,” I said cautiously.

  From that time onward, there were never more than two or three nearby. But still, they came daily.

  Mabina said, “You need t
o make the girls stay away. The Lady doesn’t approve. Her watchers note everyone who comes to our hut.”

  “I wish in all ways to please Lady Morgaine. But the girls are not animals. They have feelings and needs. Shall I just say, ‘Go. Your troubles no longer matter to me’?”

  “That might be best, Anya,” Mabina says. “The Lady doesn’t like others competing with her.”

  “I? Compete with Lady Morgaine? Never! I merely help the girls with their loneliness—something I understand well,” I said.

  “Be careful,” Mabina said. “Morgaine can be ruthless.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  In late spring, just after the wind moon had set, I felt the need to be out in the night air. Although they came infrequently now, a dream of the beast awakened me, anxious and sweaty. Being out in the starlight often calmed me at such times. I walked to the entrance of the sacred circle but did not enter. There was a clearing there, and I could see the starry sky, hear the night creatures, feel the soft breeze upon my face. I was alone, without the thoughts of others drifting into my mind.

  A shooting star crossed the night—then another! My blood tingled with the very aliveness of the universe.

  “Anya?”

  I jumped a bit. “My Lord Merlin.” A small, nervous laugh escaped me. Priestesses and initiates were not supposed to be wandering around at night, let alone near the Sacred Grove. I was in enough trouble with the Lady as it was. “You startled me.”

  He looked up at the sky for a moment, before saying, “Please call me Merlin. Surely we can be less formal under the Heavens.”

  I dipped my head in acknowledgment, then wondered if he saw it in the darkness. “What brings you out here?”

  “I could tell you it’s the same thing that does you,” he said. “But in truth, I’m an old man and sleep poorly. I often wander about at night. You see the most interesting things.”

  “I’ve seen two shooting stars.” There was a bright orange-yellow streak for just a moment. “Oh, look, there’s another!”

  We stood for a long while, looking up. A part of me wished to question him about what Lady Morgaine had accused him of. But if he was as false as she said, would he tell me the truth? Could he be as wicked as she said, if my heart was so drawn to him? Or was that a spell he was weaving upon me, hoping to turn me to his cause?

  No. I would know if he attempted to ensorcell me, surely.

  And if he told me that she lied? That he was blameless, and her story was the product of a tortured mind? How would that help me?

  And so, I said nothing.

  After a time, he said, “I’ve admired your cheerful acceptance at being re-initiated. I don’t know that if I were in your position—a former high priestess—that I would’ve put up with being in basic spells class.”

  “It did not bother me. It gave me something to do while I mastered your tongue.” I paused. “And it reconnected me with the delights of learning. I had forgotten.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Consider,” I said, holding out my hand. A small lavender flame danced above my palm. There was a faint tickling sensation in the skin underneath it. “The first lesson an initiate receives is in producing and controlling a candle flame. Such a little thing, once you are an adept. But such a miracle, when you are a young person just starting out. This one piece of magick,” I turned my hand over, and the flame stayed steady, “shows the candidate the potentials of her power.” I held my hand upright, and the flame danced from fingertip to fingertip. “From this moment, once mastered, all other power flows.” The flame disappeared. “I was glad to be reminded of this and other lessons.”

  “Hm,” Merlin said. “You know, I’d not thought about the beginnings of magick in so many years, I’d lost touch with this basic truth. What other things did you re-learn that I have now forgot?”

  I was not sure if he was teasing me or not. But my nervousness forced me to continue: “When I was an initiate at the Viborg Motherhouse, the greater magick was difficult to accomplish. But the power, once unleashed, was intoxicating. The day I made vanish the great gates on my own, I felt as if I controlled the world … until two other girls did it in succession.”

  He laughed.

  “But no one could copy my spinning ball of water and light that I made hover over the pond, scaring the geese!”

  “This is something I should like to see,” Merlin said.

  I felt a little guilty for a moment. I had been bragging, of course, a trait Jasoslava would have chided me for. But having announced what I could do, I had no choice but to follow through. I cleared my mind and summoned the power. Gathering water from the lake, fire from my mind and light from the stars, I swirled them in front of me. I reached out and let the magick form into a rapidly spinning sphere. Gently, I increased the power of it, until it was too much to hold. I released it, and it leapt up into the sky, joining the stars.

  “Well done,” Merlin said. “That’s not something they teach here, is it?”

  “No. And since it has no use, I cannot see why they would.”

  “Tell me more of what you learned and re-learned,” he says.

  I shrugged. “There is not much. It was in most respects the same there as here.” I laughed at myself. “And at neither Motherhouse can I produce an instance of the Sight on demand. And I use it poorly when I do access it.

  “But no one taught me how to open to the Goddess. This I learned myself, within a few moons of living in Viborg. When I was with the Goddess, I could feel Her wishes—if She wanted to share something, feel Her beside me on the path.”

  “How old were you when you perceived this?” Merlin asked.

  “I had eight winters by then, I think.”

  “Extraordinary!” Merlin exclaimed.

  “Because of my ability, the high priestess gave me special lessons each day until she died six winters later.”

  “That explains your peculiar strength and your remarkable lifeglow. You’ve a very unusual deep green and violet color all around you,” Merlin said.

  A small noise, somewhere between a laugh and a hiccup, escaped me. “I am not strong!”

  “You are, my dear. You are indeed. But enough talk.” Merlin stood thoughtfully for a moment. Then the entire clearing filled with flickering blue lights. They danced in the trees and the undergrowth. There seemed to be harp music in the air, but it was undefined and just a whisper in the mind. Slowly, the tiny lights swirled around us, before floating up and disappearing in the night sky.

  I covered my mouth, heart overflowing with joy. “Beautiful,” I said, when I could catch my breath.

  Merlin bowed slightly. “I’m glad it pleased you.”

  Unexpectedly, I yawned.

  He chuckled. “Ah! A sign that it’s time to head back to our respective beds. Good night.”

  “Good night.” He went in the direction of the visitor’s hut, and I to the healer’s croft.

  My mind was filled with thoughts of him. How could he be a crafty killer when all I had felt of him was kindness and generosity? Could it be that Lady Morgaine was wrong about him?

  As I neared the Lady’s dwelling, I saw a figure just ahead of me. The woman passed a torch, and I recognize Rowena, who had been watching the healer’s hut recently.

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  I knew Rowena meant me ill.

  Knowing I was closely watched, I tried to restrict the girls’ visits even more, to no avail. They sought me out where they thought no one was watching: at the bath, washing clothes, on the way to the midden, picking blackberries. I should have turned them away, but I could not. They needed me. And strangely, I needed them. I tried to be discreet and brief.

  One day, I met Keelia, one of the second-year girls, on the way to the bath. It seemed she had a fight with one of her friends, and she was all tears and hurt feelings. I dried her eyes and told her the three words that convey an apology that would be accepted. The girl hugged me and skipped off.

  At that
moment, I saw Beatha watching. She turned and headed off to tell the Lady.

  A shiver of fear passed down my spine, and I hurried back to the healer’s hut.

  After evening prayer, Yseult came and told me Lady Morgaine had asked for me. I had not heard the Lady call me in mindspeech. By her face, I could tell I was in trouble. Mabina squeezed my hand but said nothing before I left.

  In the Lady’s dwelling, I found Beatha and Rowena standing at either side of her. Lady Morgaine’s lifeglow pulsed a dark brown at the edges. I prostrated myself, but she did not bid me to rise.

  “Anya, I told you not to encourage the initiates, yet they follow you still. I’m told you now meet with them in secret.”

  I swallowed hard in a mouth gone dry. “I have tried to obey you in all things, Lady. I instructed the girls not to follow me. Still, they seek me out in ones and twos. I have asked them not to. What can I do?” Little puffs of dust rose with my words.

  Lady Morgaine narrowed her black eyes at me. The jewel at her breast seemed to flame brighter. “Perhaps some time alone and fasting will help you remember who is the Lady of this Motherhouse.”

  “You cannot think that I am trying to—!”

  Before I could finish, the two priestesses grabbed me by the arms and roughly dragged me out of the Lady’s croft. Everyone in Avalon stopped what they were doing and stared. I had never suffered punishment such as this. The shame was overwhelming!

  I closed my eyes and let them pull me along, stumbling. I could not bear to see the looks on my sisters’ faces.

  I am loyal to thee! I wailed in mindspeech. But my appeal was blocked. Lady Morgaine had walled shut her mind to me.

  My stomach was a hollow ball of fire. My arms and legs felt cold and watery, as if I was drowning in the air.

  They took me to a hut I had seen, but not entered. There were no windows, and the door was a thick oak slab with an iron lock. Rowena shoved me in, then slammed the door. I had only a moment of light to see there was neither furniture nor bedding, only a dirt floor.