Chapter 42: A Matter of Great Significance

Ossiam would later demand to know why Herrwn hadn’t consulted him before having servants gather up the heads on a pallet and carry them up to be placed in niches by the entrance to the inner burial chamber, but at the time the oracle had closed himself in his tower and refused to answer Herrwn’s knock, calling through the door that he could not be disturbed while he was exorcising the malevolent spirits that had gained ascendance through the evil wishes of “The One Who Never Was.”

Besides that, Herrwn had other pressing problems, not the least of which was to find out what was to be done about the rapidly approaching Sacred Summer Solstice Ceremony. Feywn had decreed months earlier that Gwennefor was to take the part of the Earth-Goddess, and Gwennefor had naturally named her consort, Arrodden—not a priest but one of Rhedwyn’s high-born recruits—to act as the Sun-God.

Both were now dead.

The responsibility for naming their replacements lay with Feywn, but aside from her appearances at the Sacred Sunrise Rituals, she remained in seclusion in her chambers, and Herrwn, though a brave man in his own way, did not even consider knocking on her bedroom door. Instead, he decided to go back to Rhonnon.

“And your business with the High Priestess Rhonnon would be?”

Far from being offended at the chilly interrogation, Herrwn was relieved to have the guardian of the women’s quarters again accosting would-be entrants with the severity of a judge on the High Council, and his answer to her challenge—“A matter of great significance”—though fully in keeping with his own dignity as the shrine’s chief priest, was accompanied by a deep and respectful bow.

“You may enter.” Belodden’s formal reply was normally all he would have expected, so he was gratified, even flattered, that she unbent enough to add, “You’ll find her in their private courtyard.”

And he did find her there, pacing in a circle, muttering to herself with her hands clasped behind her back.

The door was open, so Herrwn cleared his throat and began, “If I’m not disturbing you …”

Despite its awkward moments, Herrwn felt that his last encounter with the shrine’s chief midwife had ended well and thought that they had reached some closer rapport in light of their mutual concern for the children’s welfare.

That idea vanished when she turned on him, her eyebrows lowered and her mouth fixed in an ominous scowl.

When she didn’t say anything to explain her anger, Herrwn hazarded a guess. “Has Caelym been any trouble? If it’s the hares—”

“It’s you!”

“I?”

In point of fact, Herrwn led an exemplary life and he knew it, so he was incredulous at the accusation that he had done anything to earn the withering glare she was directing toward him.

“And me!” Still glowering, Rhonnon snapped, “She named us!”

“Who named us? For what?”

“Feywn! The Solstice Ceremony! I am to take the part of the Earth-Goddess and you—”

“I?”

“You!”

There was, of course, no refusing a command of the chief priestess and embodiment of the Great Mother Goddess, so on the night of the summer solstice, Herrwn found himself wearing a crown of primrose, yarrow, and lilies and carrying a bundle of blazing rushes up to the altar in the center of the shrine’s Sacred Grove to meet Rhonnon, who came out through the gap between the standing stones as stiffly as if she were stepping out of her grave.

Avoiding any eye contact, Herrwn dipped the tip of his torch into the bowl of oil that she thrust out in his direction and then hastily passed the flaring torch over to Ossiam. Equally quickly, Rhonnon handed the still-smoking bowl to her attendant. As the first chords to the Sacred Solstice Dance were struck, Herrwn hesitantly put his hands on her waist. She clenched her teeth and put her hands on his shoulders, and after one or two false starts, they managed to move more or less in time with the music, off and into the woods.

Once safely out of sight, they drew apart with a mutual sigh of relief and sat down at far ends of the ritual bier, making small talk about how things were going in the nursery, until enough time had passed to return to their separate bedchambers.