Read The Awakening Online

Authors: Bevan McGuiness

The Awakening (14 page)

With that, she turned and swept from the room.

Hwenfayre sat, too stunned to move, staring at the door that closed firmly behind the High Priestess. Her head dropped. Too many dreams had been shattered too easily and too quickly for her to deal with. All her hopes for the future lay in ruins. Her
mind was not in turmoil; it seemed to have ceased to function at all. She was numb, unaware of anything around her. All she could do was pick absently at the fine cloth that covered the table.

Her whole world shrank to encompass just that small fragment of white linen. She stared, taking in the weave, the minute imperfections in the fabric. A tiny creature scuttled into view. She watched it as it moved. It was round and many-legged, moving with a mindless haste. The path it followed was random; it darted hither and yon with no apparent guiding purpose. One moment it dashed to a speck of food, the next it paused at a strand of fabric that was slightly frayed. Finally, it lost interest in the patch of linen, dashing off to the edge of the table.

‘My Lady?’ said a soft voice at her shoulder. She looked up quickly to see one of the girls standing beside her. ‘Have you finished, my Lady?’

‘Oh, yes. Thank you.’ She stood to clear away her plate. ‘Where would you like me to put this?’

‘Oh no, my Lady. Let me.’ The girl was flustered as she attempted to take the plate from Hwenfayre’s hand. ‘Please let me, my Lady.’ She was insistent, a troubled look in her eye.

‘It’s all right,’ Hwenfayre assured her. ‘I can do this. I think I need to do something right now.’ She smiled at the girl. ‘So, where do I put this?’

‘There’s no need to worry about that,’ said another voice from behind her. She turned to see a tall, older woman whom she had not seen before. ‘You must forgive our ways, my Lady,’ she continued, addressing Hwenfayre. ‘These young girls have been chosen as Novice Priestesses, and they think that to progress
they must impress the High Priestess. She has given them instructions that they are to serve you. So they are trying to do just that.’ She paused to give the girl who was still attempting to take Hwenfayre’s plate a short glare. ‘Perhaps if you would be so kind, could you please allow them to serve you in this way…’ She left the sentence unfinished, a brief raising of her eyebrows completing the thought.

‘Of course. If you think it is important,’ conceded Hwenfayre, releasing her plate.

‘Thank you, my Lady.’ The older woman gestured the girl away with a flick of her hand. ‘My name is Alyce. I am the Priestess in charge of Novices. I am responsible for their training in the ways of our Mistress. The High Priestess has graciously granted the Novices the task of seeing to your needs. So if there is anything you wish, please be so kind as to inform either me or any of the girls.’

‘So it is you I have to thank for this beautiful dress?’ asked Hwenfayre.

‘I trust it is acceptable, my Lady.’

‘Acceptable? It is the most glorious thing I have ever worn! I love it. Thank you so much.’

During this brief exchange the Novices had unobtrusively busied themselves with the task of clearing up the remains of the breakfast. Alyce lightly touched Hwenfayre on the elbow and gestured to the door. ‘Possibly you might care for a walk on deck? It has become a wonderful morning. Some fresh air is always nice after breakfast, I find. We could talk.’

On deck, the men treated the two women with similar deference to that shown Morag, but there
was not the eerie silence that had greeted her at sunrise. The promise of sunrise was fully fulfilled by the morning. A light breeze filled the sails, urging the ship onwards. But onwards to where?

Hwenfayre asked Alyce.

‘Wherever the High Priestess directs us, my Lady. This is her personal transport and we are her chosen escort.’

‘But do you know where we are going?’ Hwenfayre was insistent.

‘No. But I think we are heading to the
Southern Scend Raft.
It is the largest of our rafts, and it is where the High Priestess traditionally resides. She has been long away from her home, and, like us, I feel she needs to rest at home. Also,’ she paused, looking around conspiratorially, ‘I think there is a young man.’ She winked, sharing a secret.

Hwenfayre frowned. None of what she had heard so far this day was making any sense. She knew that she was one of these people and she longed to be taken home and welcomed as one of them, to take her place in a society that would not reject and condemn her—yet the only one to even mention her heritage had questioned it. What of all the stories Wyn had told her? What of Danan, her harp, the songs, her mystical power? These had not been spoken of. She was determined to find out.

‘Alyce,’ she started, ‘I have heard many stories about the people who live on the sea. And I was wondering if I could ask you about them.’

‘Of course, my Lady.’

‘That’s the first thing. Why does everyone except Morag call me “my Lady”? I am no lady.’

‘When we left our home rafts we were told by the High Priestess and the council that we were searching for one who had great power, who would be able to aid us in our struggle against the Raiders. We were told that when we found this person we should treat her, or him, with the utmost respect. You are the only one whom the High Priestess has chosen, and now we head home. It stands to reason that you are the one whom we sought, my Lady.’

‘Yes, that does stand to reason,’ mused Hwenfayre. ‘But what of the legend of Danan?’

‘Legend, my Lady? What legend do you mean?’ asked Alyce.

‘The legend of the woman who first led you—us—onto the sea, who taught you how to build the Rafts, who returns every few generations?’

‘I am sorry, I know of no such legend.’ She sounded genuinely regretful, yet she did not meet Hwenfayre’s eye. ‘We are called the Children of Danan, it is true, but only by those who do not know us. We call ourselves the Children of the Rafts.’

‘But Wyn told me about her. And he told me that I…’ Her voice trailed off as Morag’s words ran through her mind. What if Wyn had not told the truth? Had he been so cynical, constructing all those stories?

‘Wyn? Was that the man from whom the High Priestess rescued you?’ asked Alyce.

‘Rescued. I suppose so, I don’t know,’ Hwenfayre said. There were too many things still unresolved for her to think about. Some of which she did not want to think about, not yet. ‘Tell me about your life: how do you live on the sea?’

The life that Alyce told of was one of freedom, peace and uncluttered horizons. The Children of Danan, or the Children of the Rafts as Alyce referred to them, lived on large, well-constructed vessels that resembled rafts only in name. They followed the winds and currents, hunting and farming the denizens of the ocean for food and trading with any they happened across. Most trade with land-dwellers occurred as a result of meetings with the trading vessels that plied the ocean in search of far-off lands. As a result, things such as metals and wood were highly prized.

Whenever a new raft needed to be built, a landing was made on an island. This was a rare event, occasioning considerable planning, but always leading to great feasting as the islanders and the Children of the Raft met for a three-month-long celebration. During this time it was common for marriages to take place, bringing new blood to both the islands and the Rafts. Alyce’s mother was born on an island and had joined the Children at one such event.

‘But,’ interrupted Hwenfayre, ‘if islanders join the Children of the Raft, why is Morag uncertain about me being one of her people? Surely it doesn’t matter whether I am or not? I can just join you, can’t I?’

‘With you I think it is a different matter. You see, there are divisions within our society. Most people are simple workers, living simple lives, doing the tasks that are necessary for the functioning of any society. Over them are the Sailers who guide the Rafts. The title “Sailer” was originally given only to those who actually plotted the course of the Rafts,
but now it is more often given to those who fulfil the task of administering the daily life of the Rafts.

‘Over the Sailers are the Navigators who in reality guide the course of the Rafts. Each raft has at least three Navigators. They meet with the fishers and hunters to discuss the movements of the fish, the flow of the currents and the like, to best guide our journeys.

‘The highest level of leadership is that of the Priesthood. These are the true leaders of the Children. They are the arbiters, lawgivers and traders, and the link we have with our Mistress. It is through the Priesthood that we learn of the will of our Mistress, and through their skills that the power the Mistress lends us can be harnessed to our aid.

‘I think that the High Priestess sees in you a possibility to join that august body. And that is a high honour not easily gained. Certainly no simple lander can just “join” the Priesthood. In our history, only those of pure sea-dweller descent have ever become a Priestess.’

‘But…the Danan…my hair, my eyes…’ Her voice failed when she saw Alyce’s look of sadness.

‘Certainly your hair and eyes will mark you as unusual among the Children, and that will count against you. I think you should put aside these tales of Danan and the like. You should treat with suspicion anything Wyn told you; it is unlikely to be true.’ She looked into the lavender eyes that were slowly filling with tears. ‘I am so sorry, my Lady.’

Without a sound, Hwenfayre turned and ran across the deck back to her room, where she threw herself onto her bunk. There she lay for hours, staring again
at the low ceiling, wondering where her life was taking her, where she had been, who she was. How she longed for the simplicity of her life behind the wall. Already the taunts, the gibes, the feelings of not belonging were fading, replaced by this all-consuming loneliness. She was truly alone now. Wyn had left her. Despite Morag’s words, she could not bring herself to believe that he was dead. Something told her he lived. She did not even have her father’s harp, or his letter.

Finally pangs of hunger roused her. And with the hunger came a new realisation. Being alone, she had to look after herself; she had done it for much of her life, she could do it again. Spending time with Wyn, even the Coerl, had dulled her, made her weak. It was up to her, and no one else, to make her way in this new life. And if that meant going with these strange people, then so be it. At least she was away from the town and was on the sea. Here at least she had a chance of discovering her destiny.

It was about sunset when she decided to leave her cabin. At the door, she paused, closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
You can do this
, she told herself.
You may not be a Child of Danan, but you are still Hwenfayre. You can do this.
Standing tall, she opened the door.

Seeing no one outside, she went up on deck. Standing in the prow was Morag, High Priestess of the Children of Danan, holding her harp, lightly fingering the strings as she hummed. Hwenfayre walked along the deck to stand behind her. As before, when the High Priestess was on deck the sailors worked silently—whether out of respect or fear, Hwenfayre could not guess.

‘Hwenfayre,’ said Morag without turning.

‘Morag,’ replied Hwenfayre.

‘Sunset is a beautiful time, is it not?’ asked Morag.

‘Yes,’ said Hwenfayre. ‘But I personally prefer sunrise. There is something fresh and valuable in a new day.’

Morag nodded in agreement. ‘True,’ she said. ‘Are you rested?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘It has been a difficult time for you, no doubt.’ Abruptly, she turned around to face Hwenfayre. Her eyes were hard. ‘Perhaps it would be a good time for us to resume our conversation from this morning.’

Hwenfayre nodded slowly. ‘Yes,’ she replied.

‘I have been considering how you can best take a place among my people,’ said Morag. ‘And I think it would be best if you were to take your place among the Novices. I believe that Hylin would make an excellent teacher and guide to aid you in what will be a very trying time for you.’ After a pause, she raised her eyebrows quizzically. ‘Was there anything else?’

‘No.’

‘Good.’ Without another word the High Priestess turned back to the sea and resumed her song.

Hylin proved to be a stern teacher. Not only was Hwenfayre expected to learn the songs of the Children of the Raft, but she also had menial jobs to perform. Her first task, however, was to move out of her own cabin and into the cabin she would share with the other Novices. They did not welcome her. This dislike was not an active thing, it was like a silent wall. They only spoke to her when necessary,
and then only in clipped phrases. Her rich blue dress was taken away and replaced with a simple long white shift.

She was put to work in the galley, cleaning and chopping the vegetables. After the meals were eaten by the crew she collected the plates and helped wash them.

In between her menial tasks, there were the hours spent learning both the words and the tunes for the ancient songs of the Children of the Raft. She was given a simple harp to practise with. It was old, the strings were stretched and worn, the frame cracked and water damaged, but it had a gentle sound. Once her fingers became used to the strings, she was able to coax the flowing sounds she so longed to hear.

The other Novices learned to play by a method of gradual memorisation of the melodies and lyrics, to which were added the harp accompaniment. It was a system that annoyed Hwenfayre. She learned by ear. Once she heard a song, she could play it. It was as if each song had its own rules, its own logic, its own existence. Once she felt that existence, everything about the song followed naturally.

Her method annoyed the other Novices as well as Hylin. She was an elderly woman, grey-haired and wizened, who had been teaching Novices to play the harp for many years. As a younger woman, Hylin had been a Priestess, but her true talent lay in the area of teaching. Or so she kept telling the Novices under her tutelage.

After a few days, Hwenfayre became aware that not all of the Novices held her in the same disregard. One of the girls would occasionally smile when Hwenfayre
looked her way. Whenever Hwenfayre smiled back, she became flustered and dropped her eyes. Hwenfayre decided that she had been alone for long enough, so one afternoon, after another lesson on the correct way to tune a harp, she sought this girl out.

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