Skin (23 page)

Then with a sob, she lurched forward and took me in her arms. I rested my head on
the fat-stained breast of her cooking tunic and, for the first time since I was much
smaller, she rocked me and sang my childhood song:

Ailia Ay,

Ailia Oh,

Through shadowed lakes we travel,

To land's deep heart we go

As she stroked my arm she found the bandage around my fight wound. Wordlessly, she
unwrapped it. ‘Why do you bandage this perfect skin?'

I looked down. My arm was unscarred. Already my knowledge was receding. Without answering,
I rested my head back on her chest. Perhaps I would have to accept that this seed
was not destined to fruit. I could speak of it with no one in Caer Cad. There was
only one to whom I could confess my journey, and I had vowed not to enter the place
where he waited. If I wished to meet with Taliesin again, I would have to find a
way to call him to me.

Early next morning, I was returning with bread when Neha streaked ahead, darting
behind the kitchen. A hare? I wondered. There was a flood of barking before she bounded
back, snapping at my skirts and bidding me come.

‘I don't want to see your kill,' I chided, shooing her away.

But she kept up her barking until I followed.

When I turned into the narrow pathway behind the kitchen, it was not a hare carcass
I found, but Heka, sitting on her haunches with a torn piece of linen and a small
pot of beeswax on the ground before her.

She looked up at me, her face triumphant. Across her lap, one hand rubbing its blade
and the other grasping its handle, lay my bronze sword.

My fingers tightened around my basket. ‘How did you get this?'

‘Cah asked me to order the store pit and I found it hidden there. I thought it was
so pretty I would clean it. For its lucky owner.'

Neha yapped relentlessly at the weapon.

‘Hush!' I hissed, crouching before Heka. ‘Has anyone seen it?'

‘No,' she said. ‘I kept it out of sight as I wanted to attend to it myself.'

‘Not even Cah, who bade you?'

‘Only me. Why do you ask? It could not be yours.' Her feigned innocence chilled me.
‘Swords cannot be held by those without skin.'

‘You know that it is.' How did she seek and find what was most precious to me?

Footsteps passed just beyond the curve of the kitchen wall. ‘Give it to me, Heka,
and speak of it to no one.'

‘For what reward?' she said.

‘What is your price?' I spluttered. ‘Coin? Food?'

She leaned back against the kitchen wall, savouring her moment. ‘Coin, for now, enough
that I need not find work for a moon turn or two,' she said, ‘and some of the honey
cakes that Bebin has just put into the oven.'

‘Yes, yes,' I gasped, giddy with relief that the sword would not be exposed.

She stood, letting it fall to the ground, and kicked it toward me.

I stared at her, confused by her trust. ‘How do you know I will honour my promise?'

‘I do not like you,' she said, ‘but I know that you are true.'

I snatched up the sword and stowed it beneath my shawl. ‘Wait here until I can procure
Cookmother's purse,' I said. ‘And when you have coin will you be gone from this kitchen?'

‘For now,' she said. ‘Ugh, you bleed!' Recoiling, she pointed to my arm.

I looked down. Fresh blood streamed down my elbow. The cut had opened again.

‘A fight wound!' Her eyes blazed.

‘No…' I said. ‘A carving wound.' With my hand pressed around it, I hurried away,
calling Neha to my heel. I had to be on my guard with Heka. She was cleverer and
more poisonous than I had realised.

Pain is not evil. Nor suffering. Nor death.

The only evil is moral weakness.

The strongest weapon against it is knowledge.

Learning is the root of all virtue.

T
HE
SUMMER
HARVEST
came. I did the same work I had always done—the milling and storing
of the Tribequeen's grain, the fleecing of sheep—but I was not the same woman. I
was feigning contentment, sitting by the fire each evening with my worksisters,
attending their riddles and gossip, when the whole of my being yearned to proclaim
what I had learned.

I became practised at wearing the sword, releasing it deftly as I undressed for bathing,
disguising it in my skirts and refastening it by touch, so that no one could see.
It stayed bound to me always, even as I slept.

My hunger for skin endured, sharpened. With skin, I could be trained to journey to
the Mothers with full sanction. With skin I could return Taliesin's skinsong. The
sword—which rubbed my thigh
to rawness, to weeping sores, then finally thick calluses—was
useless without skin.

It was one moon after midsummer. I was sweeping the floor of the grain hut when I
heard the bell announcing visitors to the Great House. At the sight of the horses
tethered outside, I flew to the kitchen.

‘Quick, give me bread and an ale pot,' I commanded Bebin, brushing clean my skirts.
‘Uaine and Ruther are returned!'

Bebin loaded my tray with loaves and a jug and bade me send Uaine to her when their
business was finished.

The benches in the Great House were draped in gleaming, sky-hued fabrics, fragrant
with spice. Boxes spilling with gems were spread over the silks and Fraid sat tall
in a white gossamer shawl, clusters of green stones cascading from each ear. ‘Ailia,'
she called, ‘come and help me with these trinkets.'

Sitting by the fire, his hair cut short and face shaved like the merchants of the
First City, was Ruther. His eyes turned to me as I entered, yet bluer against his
sun-darkened skin.

I set down the tray and walked to Fraid, feeling Ruther's gaze hot upon me. Uaine
was beside him, and opposite them both, with no interest in the eastern finery, sat
Llwyd. He smiled briefly as I passed.

Fraid held up her mirror as I fastened a snake-shaped clasp around her neck. ‘These
are beautiful, Ruther.' She turned her cheek. ‘How does it stand at the coast?'

‘They are ready to sail,' said Ruther. ‘This is why we return. We have passed close
to the Roman camp, and learned much of their intent.'

Fraid put down her mirror. ‘We know they wish to subdue Caradog—but surely they do
not look to the peaceful tribes?'

‘It would be false comfort to think so,' said Ruther. ‘They want the isle of Albion
in its entirety. This is Claudius's goal.'

I stood behind Fraid, staring at Ruther. Was it only I who read the trace of excitement
beneath the concern in his face?

Fraid motioned me to unfasten her neckpiece. ‘We are not his war trophy.'

‘But he would have us be,' said Ruther. ‘And this, I know, is not all, Tribequeen.'

I sensed the blood quickening under Fraid's skin as I unclasped the metal.

‘Speak,' she said.

Ruther's gaze flickered to me before returning to Fraid. ‘Durotriga is of particular
interest to the General Plautius. Our tribelands are fertile and rich in metal.'

Fraid paused before responding. ‘I don't see how any of this can be true,' she said.
‘There have been several riders from the east telling us that Plautius commanded
them to embark but they were too terrified of our tides and would not board their
ships.'

‘Such a mutiny occurred, yes,' said Ruther. ‘But the Emperor sent Narcissus to stand
before them. He is a great speaker. He countered their fears with reason. They are
once again ready to sail.'

‘When?' asks Fraid.

‘Within days.'

She stared into the fire. ‘So it is war.'

I stood, motionless behind her, watching Ruther's eyes jump from her to Uaine, then
back again.

‘Is this the only way, Tribequeen?' said Uaine carefully.

Fraid looked to him. ‘Clearly you think not. Speak.'

‘If they are seeking to expand their territory, it is to their advantage for local
leaders to remain in place,' said Uaine. ‘Rome will offer client kingships, generous
kingships, to those tribekings who do not oppose them.' He paused. ‘Many of the eastern
kings are already planning such negotiations.'

Was it the draft from the doorway that made the hairs on my neck rise?

‘This is not the way of the Durotriges,' said Fraid.

‘Wait,' Llwyd raised his hand. ‘What would this mean?'

‘Foremost an arrangement of revenue,' said Ruther. ‘Taxes paid to the Empire in metal
and slaves and an allegiance to Claudius. Beyond this, freedom. To live as we have
always done.'

I startled as Llwyd broke into a loud laugh.

‘Do I amuse you, wiseman?' said Ruther, frowning.

‘I laugh at your knowledge of freedom,' said Llwyd. ‘Tell me, by what laws do we
live in these client kingships?'

‘For the most part, tribal law is upheld.'

‘But ultimately?' said Llwyd.

Ruther's lips tightened. ‘We would be held within the protection of Rome.'

Llwyd nodded. ‘Within the Empire, laws are strictly enforced, are they not?'

‘The penalties for disobedience are indeed strict,' said Ruther. ‘The law is strong.'

‘And upon this law rests the virtue of Roman citizens?'

‘Yes. For fear of death,' said Ruther.

I shifted on my feet, sensing the conflict seeding between them.

‘And yet the city is strewn with criminals,' said Llwyd. ‘I hear they run like rats
in a drain. Fouling the water.'

‘There is virtue and order in the city of Rome that Britain is yet to know,' said
Ruther, bristling. ‘Great cities cannot be built upon chaos.'

‘I agree,' said Llwyd. ‘Chaos will always prevail.'

Ruther frowned, shaking his head. ‘I am lost by your Journeyman's reckoning. Speak
plainly, wiseman, if you wish to be understood.'

I flinched at his treatment of his journeyman Elder. There had been a hardening in
him since I last saw him.

Llwyd rose and stood closer to the hearth. His skin was made smooth, youthful, by
the firelight.

‘As you know well,' he began, ‘in this isle of light we live by the laws of skin.'
He fingered the sprig of mistletoe that hung from his belt. ‘Those who truly know
the laws will love them. The order of Albion is freely consented. Taught. Not enforced.
Whoever does not comply by their own judgment is not virtuous, but captive. Teach
what is true, then allow each soul its choice. This is freedom. This is virtue.'

And what of those who cannot learn? I ached to ask. Where is their freedom? Where
is their virtue?

‘Thank you,' Ruther's voice was cold, ‘for your illumination. But wise words will
not win a war. Tribequeen—' he turned to Fraid, ‘—despite these compelling discussions
of freedom, the Romans will come, and we will fare better if we meet them with some
willingness to make terms. If we resist them, they will take their desire by force—and
on that count we cannot match them.'

I stared at him. This was not the warrior's way. There was something he sought to
gain in this.

Fraid turned to Llwyd. ‘I have heard your protest, Journeyman, and understand it.
Still, Ruther's advice must be considered, if the legions do indeed reach our borders.
Do you agree?'

Llwyd stood at the hearthstones, his voice low. ‘If you submit us to their laws,
Fraid, you will destroy us.'

‘Do you rather we fight a battle we cannot win?' said Ruther without patience.

Llwyd lifted his face, his voice now strong. ‘With the Kendra's blessing, we will
win.'

Ruther snorted. ‘Of what Kendra do you speak?'

‘She will come,' said Llwyd.

‘You are waiting for the past,' said Ruther.

I gasped and Fraid hushed me.