Consorts of Heaven (17 page)

When Einon repeated his offer of the trance-therapy Sais gave it more thought. The enquiries Huw had made had all drawn a blank, while there was definitely something about the priest - or at least his possessions - that linked in with Sais’s past. He’d be running the risk of dredging up the nastiness from his dreams, but he’d had only a couple of bad nights since his recovery from the falling fire - perhaps the disease had burned the nightmares out of him. He decided to give it a go.

At the next farm Einon arranged to use the farmer’s parlour, where they wouldn’t be disturbed. Sais, still with misgivings, asked the farmer for a mug of beer to relax him. The farmer was happy to oblige the strange nobleman and one beer turned to several . . .

Sais sat across from Einon with an oil-lamp on the table between them. The priest produced a small, square-bladed knife to which he had attached a thread. ‘My razor, which I will use to catch the light.’

‘Your razor?’ Sais had been wondering how the priest managed to keep his face and head hair-free. ‘I don’t suppose I could borrow that?’

Einon frowned. ‘Ah, no, you may not! Tis made of skymetal - that is why it shines so.’

The beer was making him careless. ‘Sorry. Of course it is.’

‘Now, Chilwar, get yourself comfortable.’

Sais did his best, perched on a wooden stool. He could already feel the beer working its way to his bladder, and he wasn’t convinced he wanted to do this at all—

‘Relax, Chilwar,’ Einon interrupted his musings. ‘The mind can be seen as a great house with many rooms. Some are above ground, in the light. Others are below, in the cellar. In a case like yours, most of the rooms are in the darkness below. We need to, ah, explore this cellar together, to bring the memories into the light. You are with me so far?’

‘Makes sense to me.’ Sais wondered if Einon knew how patronising he sounded.

‘As you have some knowledge of the world and the ability to make sense of new experiences, we can assume that the time of your life when you acquired such knowledge and skills is accessible. Therefore, we will, ah, we will start with something from long ago. We are going to find the door that leads to your earliest memory of being safe and happy and look inside. I will lead you down into the place where this memory is, and ask you what you find. When we have had a look around I will bring you back to the present where you will, ah, you will now have that memory to add to the manor house of your thinking mind. Do you understand?’

‘Let’s give a go.’

Einon twisted the razor over the flame. ‘Watch the light on the blade. Do not think of anything else, do not worry, just relax. In a while I will count to ten very slowly, and each time I count, imagine yourself going down a step into this cellar. You should find your eyes closing: let them. You will be safe; I will be with you. We will find the lost memories together.’

‘One . . .’

The uneven play of light on the blade made Sais blink.

‘Two . . .’ This would be easier if he wasn’t having to hold himself

straight on the stool, and he didn’t need to pee.

‘Three . . .’ Einon had a very persuasive voice, but Sais knew very little about him, or about this technique.

‘Four . . .’ How far would this put him in the priest’s power anyway?

‘Five . . .’ No, he needed to relax. His eyes were getting tired, so that was good.

‘Six . . .’ He began to sag on the seat; worried about falling, he pulled himself upright.

‘Seven . . .’ Get comfortable, close the eyes. Come on.

‘Eight . . .’ Einon had talked about steps, and he should have been using that to focus. He visualised a step.

‘Nine . . .’ Visualised stepping off it.

‘Ten . . .’ Into darkness.

He opened his eyes. Einon was staring intently at him, still holding the blade over the flame.

Sais said, ‘I don’t think that worked.’

Einon lowered the blade and sighed. ‘Apparently not. We can try again.’

‘I think . . . Actually I think I need to get rid of this beer first.’

‘Ah. The technique works best on an unclouded mind,’ Einon’s voice was tinged with disapproval. Then, seeing Sais’s expression he added, ‘But we should not give up. Perhaps another night?’

‘Perhaps.’

Kerin found herself soaking up the new experiences as woollen cloth soaks up water: the gentle, sweeping hills with their towering forests, the light-haired dalespeople and their bright clothes; big, square houses with windows - she had not even known the word ‘window’ until Huw told her! - and countless new varieties of plants and animals.

Damaru was happy to be somewhere interesting again, though being amongst people brought its own problems. At one farm, Einon held a sevenday service in front of the small shrine that served as the farm’s capel. Afterwards Kerin could not find Damaru anywhere until a shriek came from the stone farmhouse and a few moments later Damaru pelted out, followed by an irate woman: the farmer’s wife had found him eating the bread she had left out to cool, and not knowing him to be a skyfool, she had grabbed her broom and chased him off.

After this, Einon said it was time to show Damaru’s status by drawing the circle of the world on his forehead, as candidates in the City were so marked. Kerin saved a piece of charcoal from the night’s fire and re-drew the circle each morning. Damaru treated the process with an air of bemused tolerance, soon coming to accept it as part of his routine.

Kerin was surprised the farms let them stay, given the fuss and mess the drove made; she had not even seen them leave any animals as payment for this service. Huw explained that they used money down here; she had Neithion’s string threaded with a handful of thin metal discs -
coins
- but they would not buy much in the City, Huw said. She must hope her skirts fetched a good price.

Money was on Howen’s mind too: he complained loudly of the drain Sais was putting on the drove’s resources, and wondered when they would get the promised reward for saving him. Fychan, who had seen Kerin making the shirt from Sais’s fabric, suggested she should sell it and give the profits to the village. Kerin refused.

Kerin had achieved a strange sort of status amongst the drovers: mother of the miraculous sky-touched child and nurse to the mysterious stranger who survived the falling fire. Sais’s presence was seen as part of this peculiar blessing, particularly as there had been just one new case of the falling fire since his recovery. Though the drovers chose to get their injuries and ailments treated by one of the male healers now travelling with them, several had Kerin look over them afterwards, as though her touch would aid healing. Even Huw, troubled by an infected tooth he would have to get pulled at the star-season fair, asked for her blessing.

Sais’s company brought joy to Kerin. He showed her tenderness and respect such as no man save Neithion ever had, and she dared hope he might return her feelings for him. She began to wonder if the Weaver, who had laid the cloth of her life so rough and uneven until now, had finally seen fit to release the tension on the threads. She looked forward to star-season, when, if the Mothers willed, she and Sais might become more than friends.

But before they grew any closer, she must tell him her full history, not just the circumstances of her birth. She had to know he could accept her tainted heritage completely . . .

The chance came on the evening that Sais tried Einon’s trance healing. When he returned to the drovers, she asked him whether the priest’s ministrations had helped.

‘Unfortunately, no; it didn’t work,’ said Sais. ‘I don’t think I was relaxed enough.’

‘Were you worried about touching on the matters that disturb your sleep so?’

‘That was the main thing, yes. Perhaps I should have told Einon about my dreams, but it’s pretty private stuff.’

So Sais did not trust the priest completely. Kerin tried not to let her relief show. ‘As long as you do not directly lie to him . . .’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Priests have the ability to smell out untruths.’

‘Shit, I didn’t know that! I’ll have to be careful.’ Then he added, ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you don’t seem to like Einon much. Did something happen while I was ill?’

Kerin said, ‘Not really.’ Then, before she could lose her nerve she added, ‘Tis not Einon as such I dislike. I . . . I have a problem with priests.’

‘Because of your grandfather? I got the impression that was quite normal; being able to have their way with any woman they take a fancy to seems to be one of the perks of the job.’

‘Aye, so it is. No, tis not that. Can we - can we go somewhere quieter?’ She led him away from the farm buildings and they sat by one of the animal pens, leaning against the hurdles. Behind them the animals shifted, lowing and stamping.

‘Tis about my past,’ Kerin began, ‘about what happened when I was a child.’ She paused, and took her courage in hand. Sais had to know it all. ‘The family who fostered me treated me well, though no one would speak of my birth, save to say it was a matter of shame. In my fifth year my mother returned. She must have been watching a while, as she came to me in the oat-fields at harvest-time. She told me who she was, and said not a day had gone by that she did not think of me. At first I did not believe her. Then I became angry - she had abandoned me! Then she told me how she had come to be with child, and been cast out for it, and how by the time I was born she was half dead and had no milk to feed me. By leaving me she gave me at least the chance of life.’

‘How did she survive?’

‘Reivers caught her. They have few women and it suited them to keep her alive.’

‘Poor woman. How did she escape?’

‘She did not. The reivers let her go. Two men had fought over her, and after both died of their wounds the reivers abandoned her and moved on.’

‘She was lucky they didn’t kill her.’

‘T’was not luck. My mother was sky-cursed.’

‘Oh.’ He looked concerned, and added, ‘I’m afraid I don’t really know what that means.’

‘A sky-cursed woman will charm and control those around her, and they will not even know they are under her influence. As with a skyfool, the change comes as the child enters adulthood, and is slow to flower. My mother was a young girl when she fled; she did not fall to the depths of her curse until she was amongst the reivers.

‘She did not tell me she was a witch, of course. I found that out later.

‘She took my hand and led me from the field into the village. I trembled like a reed, but she strode into the moot-hall to confront the man who had wronged her. She demanded he make reparation by giving her a place to bring up the child that resulted from their union. Loctar agreed, though his council later tried to dissuade him. I lived with my mother in something like happiness for almost four years.

‘Then a priest came to the village. He saw my mother for what she was. Once Loctar realised he had been enthralled by a sky-cursed woman, he wanted her out of his village. And me, in case I was also tainted - which I am not, else my life might have been very different.

‘They came for her in the night. That was their mistake, because the darkness worked to her advantage. She befuddled them. I crouched low beside the loom while men jumped and slashed at shadows. Then one stabbed something that was not a shadow. Loctar died of his wounds before morning, finally paying the price for his crime. The man she had tricked into killing him was banished.

‘The priest knew she would do something like this. He waited outside our hut, and when she grabbed my hand and we ran, he caught her. I escaped.

‘Now our positions were reversed: my mother was in the village and I waited outside, unsure of her fate.

‘At dawn the next day a procession left the village. The priest was at its head, dragging my mother, who was tied and blindfolded and staggered as though drunk. Everyone followed them up to the mere to witness his judgment.

‘Though I was told of her fate by Arthen, no one knows that I saw what happened from my hiding place in the reeds. The priest said my mother was a servant of Melltith, but that was not so. She was not evil. She was my mother, who had been abused, and who had risked everything for me. But what could I do? If I had protested, then I would only have joined her. The priest said they would send her back to her master. They tied stones around her wrists and her neck. Then they pushed her into the silent pools and watched her sink. They expected her to keep falling until she reached the Abyss. She did not, I am sure of that. She lies there to this day, unshriven, her soul bound to the land below, a damned spirit that can never be reborn.

‘That is why I have no regard for the words of priests.’

‘That’s awful, Kerin. I am so sorry.’ He sounded appalled.

Kerin wondered if he would try to hold her, comfort her. Part of her wanted that more than anything . . . But not yet. He felt a compassion some would call weakness, and she would not take advantage of that. She said, ‘Please, do not be. Tis not your fault.’ She stood up.

They walked back to the farm in silence.

Though neither of them spoke of their conversation Kerin felt a weight lift, knowing he did not think less of her for her past.

For the next few nights they camped in fields, so Sais had no further chance to try Einon’s trance healing, though he continued to spend time with the priest. One day, about a week out from the market, he said to Kerin, ‘Einon says he can arrange for me to stay at the Reeve’s manor at Plas Aethnen. That should put me in a more relaxed state, especially as there’s a promise of a bath and a bed. Given the nightmares are still holding off, I’ll probably try another session of this Cof Hlesmair then. The only thing is, it means I’ll be abandoning you for part of star-season.’