Read Online The Forest House by Marion Zimmer Bradley, Diana L. Paxson - Free Book Online
Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley, Diana L. Paxson
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problem.
"That is surely what they were, not three years ago. Now suddenly, instead of old priests and sacrificers, they're a group of young men, not one of whom is over twenty-one and most of whom were born in the Holy Island, who think they are reincarnations of the Sacred Band —"
"Thosechildren! Born as they were, it would not surprise me." Her smooth brow wrinkled as she began to understand.
Page 46
"Exactly so," he continued. "That boy Cynric whom Bendeigid is fostering is one of them, and my son-in-law, who always did have a touch of the fanatic, has lost no opportunity to share his politics with the boy!"
Lhiannon turned white. "How, may I ask, did that happen?"
"I never knew it would make any difference; it was before my daughter Rheis married Bendeigid, and I did not know him so well. By the time I realized how much trouble either of them could make, it was too late. Cynric's all set to begin where his foster father leaves off. He and Bendeigid between them managed to find most of the other boys - and there were the Ravens, with a name and an organization ready to hand . . .
"If anything should happen to me, or to you -" He shook his head, grimacing. "Who could stop them from trying to avenge their mothers' shame on Rome? Already folk from here to the lakes are going about telling one another that these men are reincarnated heroes."
"And so they might be," Lhiannon said,
Ardanos grunted. "The worst of it is, they look it."
"I recommended that they should all be drowned, remember, not just the girls," said Lhiannon, recovering her composure. "Cruel as it sounds, it would have saved trouble now. But there were some who had other ideas; they were tender-hearted or, like Bendeigid, they wanted to raise the boys to take revenge for the priestesses. And so they are still alive and it is more than twenty years too late to deny their existence. I cannot now say that they have no right to avenge."
Never that, Ardanos thought. He must never suggest that the word of Lhiannon was her own word, or the word of the priests, and not the word of the Goddess. He must not remind her that the word of Lhiannon had never differed in any essential way from the agreed will of the Council of Druids, or that the Goddess - if she existed at all, he thought cynically, had long since ceased to care or to intervene in what became of her worshipers, or of anybody else, except - or maybe including - her priestess.
He said carefully, "I was implying nothing. I merely remind you — will you not be seated? Your guard is eyeing me most disquietingly -I said only that if the Goddess answers your prayers for peace, She also hears, and ignores, the prayers of most of the population for open rebellion or war. How long will She Page 47
continue to hear your prayers and ignore theirs? Or to put it even more bluntly" — but not bluntly enough, he thought - "forgive me for this, but you are not a young woman — what of the day when you no longer serve the shrine?"
If I could only speak the truth to her.A passion he thought he had forgotten tightened his throat. She and I grow weak with the years, but Rome is still strong. Who will teach the young ones how to preserve our ancient ways until Rome in her turn grows old, and our land is our own once more?
After a moment she dropped into a chair and shielded her eyes with her hands. She said, "Do you think I have not considered that?"
"I know you have thought of it," he said. "And I know the result of your thoughts. Vernemeton might one day be served by one who, let us say, answered the cries of the many for war, rather than the prayers of her Priestess. And then there would be war. And you know what will become of us then."
"I can only serve the shrine while I live," said Lhiannon bitterly. "Even you cannot ask more of me than that."
"While you live," echoed the old Druid. "It is of that we must speak now." Lhiannon passed her hand across her eyes. More gently, he asked, "Do
"That is surely what they were, not three years ago. Now suddenly, instead of old priests and sacrificers, they're a group of young men, not one of whom is over twenty-one and most of whom were born in the Holy Island, who think they are reincarnations of the Sacred Band —"
"Thosechildren! Born as they were, it would not surprise me." Her smooth brow wrinkled as she began to understand.
Page 46
"Exactly so," he continued. "That boy Cynric whom Bendeigid is fostering is one of them, and my son-in-law, who always did have a touch of the fanatic, has lost no opportunity to share his politics with the boy!"
Lhiannon turned white. "How, may I ask, did that happen?"
"I never knew it would make any difference; it was before my daughter Rheis married Bendeigid, and I did not know him so well. By the time I realized how much trouble either of them could make, it was too late. Cynric's all set to begin where his foster father leaves off. He and Bendeigid between them managed to find most of the other boys - and there were the Ravens, with a name and an organization ready to hand . . .
"If anything should happen to me, or to you -" He shook his head, grimacing. "Who could stop them from trying to avenge their mothers' shame on Rome? Already folk from here to the lakes are going about telling one another that these men are reincarnated heroes."
"And so they might be," Lhiannon said,
Ardanos grunted. "The worst of it is, they look it."
"I recommended that they should all be drowned, remember, not just the girls," said Lhiannon, recovering her composure. "Cruel as it sounds, it would have saved trouble now. But there were some who had other ideas; they were tender-hearted or, like Bendeigid, they wanted to raise the boys to take revenge for the priestesses. And so they are still alive and it is more than twenty years too late to deny their existence. I cannot now say that they have no right to avenge."
Never that, Ardanos thought. He must never suggest that the word of Lhiannon was her own word, or the word of the priests, and not the word of the Goddess. He must not remind her that the word of Lhiannon had never differed in any essential way from the agreed will of the Council of Druids, or that the Goddess - if she existed at all, he thought cynically, had long since ceased to care or to intervene in what became of her worshipers, or of anybody else, except - or maybe including - her priestess.
He said carefully, "I was implying nothing. I merely remind you — will you not be seated? Your guard is eyeing me most disquietingly -I said only that if the Goddess answers your prayers for peace, She also hears, and ignores, the prayers of most of the population for open rebellion or war. How long will She Page 47
continue to hear your prayers and ignore theirs? Or to put it even more bluntly" — but not bluntly enough, he thought - "forgive me for this, but you are not a young woman — what of the day when you no longer serve the shrine?"
If I could only speak the truth to her.A passion he thought he had forgotten tightened his throat. She and I grow weak with the years, but Rome is still strong. Who will teach the young ones how to preserve our ancient ways until Rome in her turn grows old, and our land is our own once more?
After a moment she dropped into a chair and shielded her eyes with her hands. She said, "Do you think I have not considered that?"
"I know you have thought of it," he said. "And I know the result of your thoughts. Vernemeton might one day be served by one who, let us say, answered the cries of the many for war, rather than the prayers of her Priestess. And then there would be war. And you know what will become of us then."
"I can only serve the shrine while I live," said Lhiannon bitterly. "Even you cannot ask more of me than that."
"While you live," echoed the old Druid. "It is of that we must speak now." Lhiannon passed her hand across her eyes. More gently, he asked, "Do
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