Glynis had made her availability all too obvious to Tristram. While I’d had to sit there watching, glaring, burning with annoyance.
I tutted and scowled in the direction of his hut. I’d spent too long allowing my mind to wander in Tristram’s direction. I should have been focusing on my studies; not the broad sweep of his golden-skinned shoulders. I kicked at the dirt with the heel of my sandal.
As was the right in most of our neighbouring tribes, a woman of age could choose any man she desired. Glynis had made her choice very clear, and full of mead and that awful brew his elder brother had concocted, Tristram had been glowing under her advances.
“Gah.” I hated him. Sometimes. No, most of the time.
“Looking for someone?” Heather tapped my elbow and peered up at me. Short and stocky, she had that natural build woman of her profession required. Thick strong forearms were all the better to pull a new bairn out of a woman’s centre. I cringed. The blood and mess of yesterday was still uncomfortably raw.
“No.” I frowned again at Tristram’s closed door. If Glynis was in there with him, wrapped in those golden brawny arms of his, I would never talk to him again—not in this life or the next. Well apart from when I had to as his Priestess—but that was it.
“May I have a word with you, My Baduri?”
“Of course. Is everything okay with the bairn?”
Heather guided me away from the settlement, weaving towards the tilled ground waiting for life to grow. I frowned at the soil. It seemed stark and unforgiving. I made a mental note to speak to Father about the lack of crops and new growth and turned my attention to the rough-skinned woman at my side. Her quick bright gaze was focused on my face and I shifted uncomfortably under her frank appraisal. Her greying hair was braided, and decorated with blue gems, and at her throat a dark-blue crystal the size of an eyeball settled in a copper disk. I had no idea how old she was, she was just Heather.
“Heather, is everything okay?” I thought of that little scrap of crying flesh we’d coaxed from Agnese’s womb. It would be a tragedy if some misfortune had fallen on him during the night; there would also be a lot of unnecessary sore heads this morning too.
Guiding me to a log, out of view from the rest of the villagers, she sat on the rough bark and patted the space next to her. “You did well yesterday, Mae.”
I offered her a tight smile. “I only did what little I could, as I have no skill in such matters.” I shifted uncomfortably, not ready to discuss the golden flow which seemed to spread through my veins, running in my blood as quick as water. “She was fortunate to have you there.” I placed my hand over the top of Heather’s, her weathered skin was smooth and dry under my touch. “We are always lucky to have you assist us.”
Heather gave me a small smile. “I feel like I may not be around to help for much longer.”
I swept an alarmed glance over her. She seemed to be fighting fit to me. “Don’t talk nonsense, Heather, you can’t scare me like that.”
She turned her face towards the trees of the forest. The trees were drooping, their leaves turning with the chilled autumnal weather. “You will be eighteen soon. Time to choose yourself a man and embrace your position within our hierarchy.”
I contemplated Tristram’s closed door and pressed my lips into a tight line.
“I’ve got a lot of studying to do, many years ahead of me before I can consider things like that. I want to do the best by my people.”
“Little Priestess, I believe you’ve more coming to you than you expect.” When she turned to me, her eyes shifted with power, like ice floating over one of our ancient sacred lakes.
“I’m not that little.” I smiled. I couldn’t help but wonder what she wanted to talk to me about. We seemed to be skirting around an unspoken conversation. Recalling the golden flow of energy, I wasn’t sure it was a conversation I wanted to have.
“Here, take this.” She thrust something into my hand, curling my fingers over a hard object.
“What is it? Why are you being so mysterious?” A nervous laugh bubbled in my throat.
“It will help… with the connection.”
“Connection? You mean training?” I opened my fingers and gazed at a purple rock screwed onto a metal hook. It hung from a fine chain.
She shrugged. “Who knows what I mean? I’m an old lady given to fancies, but I do believe you are very special.” She clasped her hands in her lap and gazed up at the sky. I followed her line of sight. Swift clouds moved with the autumnal breeze across a horizon of the brightest blue. “I’ll be glad to soar high again; this mortal plane has become wearing,” she said.
I smiled. “You will soon come back when your time in this life is over. Your skills are much needed; your soul will live again.” A sudden urge moved my hand to squeeze hers.
She shrugged, her shoulder nudging mine. “Maybe, but then maybe I’ve fulfilled my role now.” Her quick gaze settled on my face for a brief moment before lifting again to the sky and the gods above.
“Maybe, but I think not.” A rolling churn squeezed my stomach. The thought of change, even the passing of the Kneel Woman, caused my throat to tighten.
Her next question caught me unawares. “Who will your soul search for in the next life, Mae?”
My thoughts instantly ran to Tristram, swept
