Gods have given us this pause. We can think on what our wisest course may be.’
Wrath flared in Vindilis. ‘What mean you?’ she cried.‘We held council and made decision at equinox. We cast our spells and tonight we know they’ve wrought well. What else remains but to curse Colconor?’
‘That … that is such a dreadful thing,’ Dahilis dared say. ‘Mayhap we shouldn’t – ’
Vindilis turned on the girl as if to attack. ‘You dare?’ she yelled. ‘Has he won your heart, little traitress?’
‘Please, darling, please,’ Innilis begged. She tugged at the sleeve of the older woman, whose anger thereupon abated somewhat.
Dahilis helped by blurting, ‘I meant no cowardice, in truth I did not. It was but that Bodilis said – oh – ’
‘Bodilis said,’ declared that one, ‘we should take heed this last time ere we do what cannot be undone. Magic is ever a two-edged sword, ofttimes wounding the wielder. I loathe Colconor as deeply as do any of you, my Sisters. But we have called his death to him. May not that be enough? Need we hazard more?’
‘We must!’ Lanarvilis exclaimed. ‘If we stand by idle at this pass, well shall we deserve it that our whole enterprise comes to grief.’ She crooked her fingers aloft like talons. ‘Also, I want my share in the death.’
Vindilis hissed agreement.
‘Calm, Sisters, calm, I pray of you,’ urged Fennalis. ‘I’ve no wish myself for black sorcery. Yet if ’tis needful, ’tis needful.’
‘I believe it is,’ Quinipilis told them. ‘Forsquilis is most profound in the lore, aye, but over the years that have been mine I’ve had to do certain deeds, and watch others done. You, Bodilis, are wise, but it is the wisdom of your books and philosophers. Bethink you. Thus far we have at best brought a man who
may
prevail, and thereafter prove a better King than Colconor.’
‘He could never prove worse,’ whispered gentle Innilis.
‘This man may choose not to fight,’ Quinipilis went on.‘If he leads soldiers, he is on duty he would be reluctant to set aside. If he does fight, he may lose. I doubt me Colconor’s strength has much dwindled since he won the crown.’
Bodilis nodded thoughtfully. True. If then the soldiers slay him who killed their comrade, why, we would be rid of the monster, but how shall we have a new King? The sacred battle may never be of more than one against one. Ys beholds too much desecration already. I believe that is why the powers of the Gallicenae are fading and failing.’
‘Oh, nay,’ Innilis shuddered and crept close to Vindilis, who laid an arm about her waist.
Tear not, my sweet,’ Vindilis assured her. ‘We will cast our spell in righteousness, that the hero shall indeed take lordship and redeem us.’
Dahilis clasped her hands together. ‘The hero!’ Her eyes shone.
Forsquilis groaned, stirred, looked up with merely human sight. Her colleagues aided her to sit, chafed her wrists, murmured comfort. Finally she could rise.
‘Feel you that we should go on as we’ve planned?’ Quinipilis asked. ‘And if you do, have you the strength?’
The witch straightened. Teeth gleamed between lips drawn thin. ‘Yea and yea!’ she answered. ‘Wait no more. Our might sinks with the moon.’
The Nine had, earlier, brought wood and laid it on a blackened site near the Stones. Dahilis had had the honour of carrying the fire: for the Sisterhood had agreed, upon Quinipilis’s proposing, that Dahilis, youngest and fairest of them, should be the bride of the new King’s first night. She prayed to Belisama while she emptied glowing charcoal on to kindling. The wind made flames leap quickly.
From under her cloak Forsquilis took a silver vessel whence she dusted salt across every palm. The Queenslicked it up in the name of Lir. Quinipilis called on Taranis while she drew forth a knife, nicked her thumb, and flung drops of blood on to the fire. They spat when they struck the coals. Each by each, the Sisters passed before
Wrath flared in Vindilis. ‘What mean you?’ she cried.‘We held council and made decision at equinox. We cast our spells and tonight we know they’ve wrought well. What else remains but to curse Colconor?’
‘That … that is such a dreadful thing,’ Dahilis dared say. ‘Mayhap we shouldn’t – ’
Vindilis turned on the girl as if to attack. ‘You dare?’ she yelled. ‘Has he won your heart, little traitress?’
‘Please, darling, please,’ Innilis begged. She tugged at the sleeve of the older woman, whose anger thereupon abated somewhat.
Dahilis helped by blurting, ‘I meant no cowardice, in truth I did not. It was but that Bodilis said – oh – ’
‘Bodilis said,’ declared that one, ‘we should take heed this last time ere we do what cannot be undone. Magic is ever a two-edged sword, ofttimes wounding the wielder. I loathe Colconor as deeply as do any of you, my Sisters. But we have called his death to him. May not that be enough? Need we hazard more?’
‘We must!’ Lanarvilis exclaimed. ‘If we stand by idle at this pass, well shall we deserve it that our whole enterprise comes to grief.’ She crooked her fingers aloft like talons. ‘Also, I want my share in the death.’
Vindilis hissed agreement.
‘Calm, Sisters, calm, I pray of you,’ urged Fennalis. ‘I’ve no wish myself for black sorcery. Yet if ’tis needful, ’tis needful.’
‘I believe it is,’ Quinipilis told them. ‘Forsquilis is most profound in the lore, aye, but over the years that have been mine I’ve had to do certain deeds, and watch others done. You, Bodilis, are wise, but it is the wisdom of your books and philosophers. Bethink you. Thus far we have at best brought a man who
may
prevail, and thereafter prove a better King than Colconor.’
‘He could never prove worse,’ whispered gentle Innilis.
‘This man may choose not to fight,’ Quinipilis went on.‘If he leads soldiers, he is on duty he would be reluctant to set aside. If he does fight, he may lose. I doubt me Colconor’s strength has much dwindled since he won the crown.’
Bodilis nodded thoughtfully. True. If then the soldiers slay him who killed their comrade, why, we would be rid of the monster, but how shall we have a new King? The sacred battle may never be of more than one against one. Ys beholds too much desecration already. I believe that is why the powers of the Gallicenae are fading and failing.’
‘Oh, nay,’ Innilis shuddered and crept close to Vindilis, who laid an arm about her waist.
Tear not, my sweet,’ Vindilis assured her. ‘We will cast our spell in righteousness, that the hero shall indeed take lordship and redeem us.’
Dahilis clasped her hands together. ‘The hero!’ Her eyes shone.
Forsquilis groaned, stirred, looked up with merely human sight. Her colleagues aided her to sit, chafed her wrists, murmured comfort. Finally she could rise.
‘Feel you that we should go on as we’ve planned?’ Quinipilis asked. ‘And if you do, have you the strength?’
The witch straightened. Teeth gleamed between lips drawn thin. ‘Yea and yea!’ she answered. ‘Wait no more. Our might sinks with the moon.’
The Nine had, earlier, brought wood and laid it on a blackened site near the Stones. Dahilis had had the honour of carrying the fire: for the Sisterhood had agreed, upon Quinipilis’s proposing, that Dahilis, youngest and fairest of them, should be the bride of the new King’s first night. She prayed to Belisama while she emptied glowing charcoal on to kindling. The wind made flames leap quickly.
From under her cloak Forsquilis took a silver vessel whence she dusted salt across every palm. The Queenslicked it up in the name of Lir. Quinipilis called on Taranis while she drew forth a knife, nicked her thumb, and flung drops of blood on to the fire. They spat when they struck the coals. Each by each, the Sisters passed before
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