magician Merlin. On Josse’s return, his word will be sufficient for the false tomb to be exposed.’
Shock coursed through Joanna and she felt the fast, alarmed thumping of her heart. ‘But I—’ I cannot, she wanted to cry. I must not be with Josse, for the sweet pain is more than we can bear and hence I have arranged matters so that we remain apart.
One did not, however, say I cannot to the Domina. Joanna bowed her head.
‘Very good,’ the Domina murmured. ‘Tomorrow night we celebrate the Solstice. Before that you must prepare yourself and your child for departure early the following morning. You will make your way to Hawkenlye, where you will find the man Josse awaiting you.’
‘I may take Meggie?’ Joanna raised her eyes and stared at the Domina, hardly able to believe what she had just heard.
The Domina smiled faintly. ‘Yes, Joanna. You go on a mission whose success is vital to your people’ – to us? Joanna wondered; she could appreciate how a spurious Merlin’s Tomb could badly affect the Abbey, which explained Josse’s involvement, but why did it matter so very much to the Forest Folk? – ‘but it is not likely that there will be danger and so there is no reason for your child to be robbed of her mother’s company and care.’
‘Thank you,’ Joanna said meekly. Her question must remain unanswered; one did not say why ? to the Domina any more than I cannot .
‘Besides,’ the Domina added, with a wry look, ‘it would be a brave woman or man who undertook to keep your little girl happy when you were not there.’
Uncertain whether this remark implied praise or criticism – she rather thought the latter – Joanna bowed again and with courteous ceremony escorted the Domina across the clearing to where the path led away into the forest.
Knowledge of what was to come – and a considerable amount of trepidation – meant that Joanna threw herself all the more fervently into the festival of Midsummer Eve. She needed help and giving all of herself to this night of honouring her gods was the best way that she knew to ask for it. It was not the practicalities that bothered her; the help that she would be begging for was in working out how on earth she was going to cope with being with Josse.
She was fairly certain that she could find her way to Folle-Pensée, for she had been there before and in the course of her long training she had been taught to learn a route thoroughly the first time she took it so that she would not forget if she had to go back. Once there, the Domina’s scant orders had implied that someone else – one of the Great Ones, no less – would be instrumental in providing whatever it took to persuade Josse that Merlin lay buried there. This Joanna found a great relief for, as far as she could recall, her people were ambiguous about whether or not this was true, despite the local Armorican people’s firm belief in both Merlin and his miraculous powers.
It was a relief because Joanna realised that she would not be able to tell Josse a lie, even if the Domina herself stood over her and gave her a direct order.
And that, she thought uncomfortably, might be more than a little awkward . . .
She packed up her leather satchel, folding up a change of clothing for herself and Meggie, her small portable pack of herbal remedies, certain charms without which she never strayed far and a suede bag containing items for her own and Meggie’s personal care. She also squeezed in some strips of dark, dried meat – she only ate the flesh of animals if she was desperate, but a long journey might well throw up such a situation, even in high summer – and a handful of the small, sweet apples that Meggie loved. Then she put the satchel aside and turned her thoughts to the ceremony.
It had been spectacular. The enormous fire had been lit at sunset, its great light blazing forth as
Shock coursed through Joanna and she felt the fast, alarmed thumping of her heart. ‘But I—’ I cannot, she wanted to cry. I must not be with Josse, for the sweet pain is more than we can bear and hence I have arranged matters so that we remain apart.
One did not, however, say I cannot to the Domina. Joanna bowed her head.
‘Very good,’ the Domina murmured. ‘Tomorrow night we celebrate the Solstice. Before that you must prepare yourself and your child for departure early the following morning. You will make your way to Hawkenlye, where you will find the man Josse awaiting you.’
‘I may take Meggie?’ Joanna raised her eyes and stared at the Domina, hardly able to believe what she had just heard.
The Domina smiled faintly. ‘Yes, Joanna. You go on a mission whose success is vital to your people’ – to us? Joanna wondered; she could appreciate how a spurious Merlin’s Tomb could badly affect the Abbey, which explained Josse’s involvement, but why did it matter so very much to the Forest Folk? – ‘but it is not likely that there will be danger and so there is no reason for your child to be robbed of her mother’s company and care.’
‘Thank you,’ Joanna said meekly. Her question must remain unanswered; one did not say why ? to the Domina any more than I cannot .
‘Besides,’ the Domina added, with a wry look, ‘it would be a brave woman or man who undertook to keep your little girl happy when you were not there.’
Uncertain whether this remark implied praise or criticism – she rather thought the latter – Joanna bowed again and with courteous ceremony escorted the Domina across the clearing to where the path led away into the forest.
Knowledge of what was to come – and a considerable amount of trepidation – meant that Joanna threw herself all the more fervently into the festival of Midsummer Eve. She needed help and giving all of herself to this night of honouring her gods was the best way that she knew to ask for it. It was not the practicalities that bothered her; the help that she would be begging for was in working out how on earth she was going to cope with being with Josse.
She was fairly certain that she could find her way to Folle-Pensée, for she had been there before and in the course of her long training she had been taught to learn a route thoroughly the first time she took it so that she would not forget if she had to go back. Once there, the Domina’s scant orders had implied that someone else – one of the Great Ones, no less – would be instrumental in providing whatever it took to persuade Josse that Merlin lay buried there. This Joanna found a great relief for, as far as she could recall, her people were ambiguous about whether or not this was true, despite the local Armorican people’s firm belief in both Merlin and his miraculous powers.
It was a relief because Joanna realised that she would not be able to tell Josse a lie, even if the Domina herself stood over her and gave her a direct order.
And that, she thought uncomfortably, might be more than a little awkward . . .
She packed up her leather satchel, folding up a change of clothing for herself and Meggie, her small portable pack of herbal remedies, certain charms without which she never strayed far and a suede bag containing items for her own and Meggie’s personal care. She also squeezed in some strips of dark, dried meat – she only ate the flesh of animals if she was desperate, but a long journey might well throw up such a situation, even in high summer – and a handful of the small, sweet apples that Meggie loved. Then she put the satchel aside and turned her thoughts to the ceremony.
It had been spectacular. The enormous fire had been lit at sunset, its great light blazing forth as
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