2 #3
She loved the flow of energy that ran through her when she called on her magic. It would leave her weary and drained, but the moment of creation, when her gift poured out to give strength to her remedies, was what she had been born for. It was what her mother, the Lady, had meant for her to do.
Morgana never knew how long it would take, nor was she aware of time passing. She only knew the task was accomplished when the thrill of energy no longer radiated down her arm and out through her palm. Slowly, a little stiffly, she lowered her arm and opened her eyes.
The candle had burned itself down to a puddle of white beeswax. The amulet lay glinting in the starlight that fell through the window. It was done. It would keep Braithe from harm, so long as she wore it faithfully.
She wished it could free her handmaid from fear of the task ahead, but that was not something she dared to do. It was wise to be afraid of the fae. They were capable of great evil, which was why her Lady mother had banished them from Lloegyr.
The fae had not forgiven humans for the Lady’s edict, and she was not here to enforce it. It was left to her daughter and her daughter’s brave little handmaid. Before she slept, Morgana whispered a prayer for Braithe, and for herself, and for the country they had both sworn to protect.
Braithe walked carefully in the darkness.
Abundant stars sparkled above her, but there was no moon, and the path was hard to see.
She made her way past the dormitory, where the acolytes now slept in peaceful quiet, to the boatmen’s quarters.
No light shone in the window, and Braithe wished she didn’t have to wake them, but it was necessary.
They could be gone the moment the early summer dawn brightened the lake, eager to return home to Camulod.
She knocked softly. “Master Hugh? It’s Braithe, Priestess Morgana’s handmaid. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I need to speak to you.”
She heard the low rumble of the boatmaster’s voice, and then the higher timbre of the boy’s.
A moment later the door creaked open, and the lad Idhri stood in the doorway, still dressed in his tunic and the leggings that left his thin ankles bare.
His braid was mussed from his pillow, and he was rubbing his eyes. “Mistress Braithe?”
“Just Braithe,” she whispered. “I regret having to wake you.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, just as quietly, and gave her a sleepy smile.
She smiled back at him. “Thank you, Idhri.”
“Should I get my master out of his bed?”
“Perhaps you don’t need to do that. I’ll explain.
” Braithe stepped back a little, and the boy followed her outside, pulling the door closed behind him.
He was even taller than she had realized, though clearly so young.
His eyes were as dark as Morgana’s had once been, pools of deep brown reflecting the stars.
“Priestess Morgana needs to go to the White City in the morning,” Braithe began.
He gave a little hiss of indrawn breath. “The fae city?”
“Yes. That one.”
“Master Hugh won’t be pleased,” Idhri said, his voice breaking. “He doesn’t like the fae.”
“He only needs to make the boat trip,” Braithe assured him. “Neither of you need go into fae country.”
“Are you going with her?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, I am.”
He hesitated, gazing doubtfully at her. “Are you certain it’s safe? Emma says that place is full of magic.”
“Emma?”
“Master Hugh’s wife.”
“We have magic here, too, Idhri,” Braithe said softly. “The priestesses use it.”
“But fae magic is different, Emma says. Bad.”
“Priestess Morgana has greater magic than anyone. I feel sure her magic is stronger than any fae magic could be. We will be safe.” She felt the quiver of intuition stir under her breastbone even as she spoke, and it was not a pleasant sensation.
It rarely was. “In any case, Idhri, we must go first thing tomorrow. It’s urgent. ”
“I will tell my master,” he said. He put his hand on the latch of the door once again but didn’t pull it. “Braithe?”
“Yes?” She had taken a step away, but she turned back.
“I don’t understand how magic works.”
Braithe said, “Oh. Idhri, that’s hard to explain.”
“Why is it good when the priestesses use it, but bad when the fae do?”
“I don’t think all fae magic is bad, Idhri. Anyone who has magic can be good or bad. The difference is in the practitioner.” The quiver came again, and she pressed her hand over it, as if that would make it stop.
“Do you have magic, Braithe?”
“Me?” She gave a low, soft laugh. “No. No, I am just a handmaid.”
“But people do. Like the priestesses.”
“Yes, some do. And some have more than others.” She put out a hand and patted his arm. His eyes widened at the gesture, and she wondered if perhaps he didn’t like to be touched. She lifted her hand, murmuring, “Now back to your bed, and rest well. I’ll see you in the morning.”
When he had gone back inside and closed the door behind him, Braithe trudged back up the slope to the residence, the weight of this day’s long hours making her feet feel heavy.
She hoped she would not lie awake, wondering at Idhri’s questions, knowing she herself didn’t quite understand how the magic worked.
Indeed, she thought, perhaps no one did.