Page 174 of The Daughters of Avalon
And still, the question thickened her throat, for even now, were the bonds of sisterhood unraveling, only to leave her and her sisters lonesome and vulnerable?
Goddess only knew, their mother would love that. Aside from killing Matilda, there could be little more satisfying to Morwen Pendragon than to see her daughters estranged and alone.
Poor, poor Arwyn.
But at least her baby sister would suffer no longer. She was at peace now, loved and protected by the Goddess. Morwen would never again harm her.
Grief made her swallow with difficulty. There was so much she wished to ask Wilhelm of Warkworth, but so far, they hadn’t had much accord, and it wasn’t so much that she was afraid of him. Rather, she didn’t knowwhatto ask, nor was he very forthcoming.
Later, she decided.
Later, when they were settled, after Jack was asleep… then she would inquire.
Latercame sooner than anticipated.
About an hour after the sun rose, Jack slumped over his horse’s withers.
Without a word, Wilhelm seized the boy’s reins. He led them into the woods, ferreting out a secluded spot within a thicket of hickory, elm and ash. Nearby, though not precisely within sight, Seren could hear the gurgling of a brook, and it seemed entirely probable he had been there before.
It made sense not to sleep so close to the brook in order to avoid travelers, but it was close enough to hear the trickling—a sound that until yesterday had been comforting. Now, it reminded her of Arwyn. Night after night, she and her sister had slept together in that cot, listening to the soundof water outside the ship’s hull, and she had dared believe they were safe. Tears stung her eyes as she tethered the horse, and once the mounts were secure, Wilhelm left, again without a word, presumably to hunt for their supper—or, rather, to break the fast, as the case should be. Seren only guessed as much because he’d grabbed a quiver and a bow before leaving.
In the meantime, she encouraged Jack to find himself a comfortable spot to lie down. She helped him relocate a few rocks, gave him a pillow of bracken to lay beneath his head… and just for good measure, she used a bit ofmagikto fluff the leaves. He would never know.
“I’ll wake you when it’s time to sup,” she said gently, as she threw his blanket over him. Weary as he was, it didn’t take long; he closed his eyes at once and was snoring within an instant.
As she knelt there, watching him sleep, the sliver of crystal in her pocket hummed. She ferreted it out, examining theshard. It glowed faintly though without imagery, but she thought she spied a golden eye peering back at her—odd. It wasn’t a vision… more like a reflection, but her eyes were not amber. Rhiannon’s eyes were amber. Like their grandmamau, her sister bore the Mark of the Mother—the crossed, amber-lit eyes that distinguished her as a Regnant Priestess. What was the shard trying to tell her?
Frowning, she returned the shard to her pocket, wandering over to inspect her saddlebag only to discover how attentive Wilhelm had been to detail.
Already, she’d found there was a blanket for each of them, strapped to the backs of their mounts, but inside her own bag, she discovered a few bites to eat, which made her complaining all the more unreasonable, though surely, he could have said so. How obnoxious to keep silent, save that she might have responded the same if faced with an ungrateful companion—which, of course, she knew she was. It simply hadn’t occurred to her to look.
There were a few more surprises; most notably a change of clothes—not one, but two—and a lightweight cloak, making her wonder why he’d allowed her to wear his crude brown cloak for so long. She also discovered a comb in the bag, and a thin, blue ribbon to plait her hair—small gestures, but each considerate beyond measure, and this from a man who, until now, had seemed entirely disagreeable.
So, it seemed; Wilhelm Fitz Richard was even more a conundrum than she’d suspected him to be.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to explore that thought. There was too much to be done, and she didn’t particularly feel like forgiving him, not yet. Before he returned, she must draw herself a pentacle large enough to protect them tonight, and she must do so without Wilhelm or Jack realizing what it was she was doing. She wouldn’t feel comfortable sleepingwithout warding the premises, but despite that Wilhelm seemed to understand who and what she was, she still didn’t feel comfortable performing the Craft in his presence.
Nor did Jack have any inkling who she was. So far as the boy was concerned, she and her sisters were merely passengers aboard his father’s ship, awaiting their time to set sail. It could well be that he would rise above prejudgment, but it was more likely he would fear her for what he couldn’t possibly understand.
Breaking off a piece of thepan, she tasted it, surprised by the subtle flavor of salt. In truth, salt was an extravagance available only to the wealthy, and even then, it was never wasted onpan, sincepandidn’t need preservation.
“Fascinating,” she said, and resolved not to waste it. She swallowed hastily, shed herself of Wilhelm’s cloak, folded it neatly, put it in his saddlebag, and then considered what she presently knew about pentacles—nothing much, until Rosalynde decided to flee with the Book. Her sister had been so sure she could travel inconspicuously, aided by no more than aglamourand wardingspell. So, for weeks before she left London, they’d practiced spells together, and studied the diagrams until Seren could now draw pentacles in her sleep. She might not have thegrimoirein her possession at the instant, but the incantations were etched in her brain.
As a matter of practice, the pentacle was only intended to harnessmagikwithin a specific area. Though certainly a warding spell could be cast without it—proof of that was in the spell Elspeth cast at Aldergh—the boundary offered added protection.
Deciding she must draw one large enough so no one could discern it at a glance, she searched for a proper stick to etch with, and while she was at it, she gathered enough tinder for a small fire. Piling the tinder near sleeping Jack, she studied theperimeter, because, truly, it was a complicated matter and she still had matters to resolve.
Most notably, no single diagram could serve every situation. There were many, many things to consider. No twodewineswere alike, and the Craft was specific to every individual. She and her sisters each had their own predominant skills: For Elspeth this was her ability to read auras, and Elspeth also had a certain charm for animals. Seren, too, had this calling to the natural world, but her métier was more healing and all things apothecary while Rosalynde had a very good feel for elementalmagik. Rhiannon, of course, could do all they could do and more. But regardless of their skills, she and her sisters each had an affinity to one element, from whence all powers manifested; and this is where Seren found a quandary.
You see, altogether, there were four main elements, plus a fifth element called thequintessence. Only adewinewith a primary to theaethercould ever hope to master all five. Her sister Rhiannon was such adewine, but one needn’t be a priestess to be aligned toaether. But thequintessencewas a divine element. It contained in itself the essence of life, the very matter from which all else was born. If Seren, too, were aligned toaetherit might explain why thewitchwindhad appeared so belatedly. She had always assumed hers was a gentler form ofmagik, but what if, in truth, it only appeared to be gentle because, like Arwyn, she’d had trouble conjuring it?
Clearly, Arwyn’s element was fire. That was the onlymagikshe’d ever possessed. Rosalynde was aligned to water. And, after much discussion, they’d surmised Elspeth must be aligned to Earth, but it was impossible to say for certes, because Seren doubted even Elspeth knew it herself. For so long, their eldest sister wouldn’t even speak of their legacy, much less practice the Craft. So, then, it made sense that for so long Seren wouldbelieve her own affinity must be air, because, after all, what were the odds of having two blood sisters aligned toaether?
Amidst five siblings, it was far more reasonable that all would be aligned to one single element, rather than to have even one aligned toaether. Thequintessencewas that rare.
But here again was Seren’s dilemma: Thewitchwindshe’d conjured yesterday might, indeed, attest to an affinity with air, but although it never materialized, she’d also had a very strong sense ofwitchwateras well. These two conjurations were impossible for adewinealigned to air.
It was easier to explain when looking at a fully drawn pentacle, with all the elements properly placed, because there was naught accidental about their positioning. So here… she drew out a small pentacle for good measure.
