Read Online The Legend of Lady Ilena by Patricia Malone - Free Book Online

observe the taboo that forbids twins to live. When one of our cows birthed twins, Moren kept cow and calves in the barn for a time. Villagers heard about it and began coming, first in twos and threes, then all together in a large group. Moren ordered me into the house with Grenna and stalkeddown the path to meet them. I listened hard but could hear only snatches of conversation.
    “… curse upon us all.”
    “The Druids say …”
    “… must be killed …”
    At last Moren returned with a grim look on his face. He said nothing, and Grenna didn’t ask, but the next morning he saddled his big stallion. Grenna and I lifted the larger calf up to him; Moren held it over the horse’s withers while Grenna tied the little legs together. The animal’s piteous bawls faded as they rode over the pass and out of sight. Moren returned late that night with a crate of chickens tied behind his saddle and two bags of oats slung where the calf had been.
    I was afraid to ask what had happened, but he knew my feelings. “Don’t worry, lass. I found a farmer whose cow lost her calf just yesterday. Our wee one has a good home.” Grenna had worried as much as I; her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away quickly.
    Now Cochan laughs at my question. “No one questions me about my horses,” he says.
    The stream beside us has narrowed and splashes loudly. When our trail curves sharply away to the left, Cochan stops us and points to a faint track that continues alongside the rushing water.
    “Your well is there. I’ll wait here.”
    Gola says, “I want to visit Mona’s Well. It is not far. Will you go with me?”
    “Of course,” I answer. Grenna and I went often tothe Sacred Well near the end of the Vale of Enfert. Fiona went with me the day before I left so we could ask protection for my journey.
    We ride single file alongside the stream for a few minutes and come to a dark grove. Oaks surround the space, and their branches intertwine to block out the sunlight. A slight breeze rustles the brown leaves above us. The well is deep in shadow, but I can make out a skull set just above the water.
    We dismount and tie the horses to a sapling. I look around and think of the ceremonies that must have taken place under these trees. “Do the Druids sacrifice here?” I ask.
    “Not any longer,” Gola answers. “The rituals are held in another grove; Dun Dreug hasn’t practiced human sacrifice for years. We come here only to pray at the well and to watch the Druid cut the sacred plants.” She points up into an ancient oak, and I can see bright green leaves of mistletoe gleaming against the dark tree bark.
    When I lower my eyes, I’m staring straight at the skull in its niche across the spring. I shudder and look away.
    Gola’s war vest and helmet are on the ground beside her, and she holds her tunic up. Her trousers are loosened so that her abdomen is exposed.
    “Will you help me?” she asks.
    Fiona and I often assisted our older friends with the ritual for fertility. I know how to sprinkle waterover a woman’s body to bring the blessing of the water spirits. I reach down into the pool for a handful of water.
    “No, no,” she says. “With the head.”
    I look at the skull.
    “It won’t hurt you. Mona brings luck to all who wish to bear a child.”
    I reach across the spring and take the skull. It feels cool and clammy. I dip up water and splash it out of the skull’s mouth onto Gola’s belly. She flinches from the cold shock but says nothing. I set the skull down and take her hand.
    We walk slowly around the spring sunwise with the water always at our right hands. When we get back to the skull again, I splash more water over her. Nine times we silently repeat the rite.
    After I replace the skull, we bow to the spring, and Gola reties her trousers and puts on her helmet and vest.
    She glances at the sun overhead. “Let’s hurry. Cochan will be impatient.”
    He is sitting against a tree, waiting for us. “About time,” he