~The Mother's Gift~
I was merely six years old when I felt the first touch of the Mother's power. I was playing with the daughters of one of our grooms, who were near my own age. We had swept the center of the hayloft in the carriage barn clear, then dragged bales of prickly, dry hay into the cleared space to build a playhouse. Alinna was eight years old then, and cared nothing for my position in the household. Rayenna was five, though she would turn six at midsummer. Rayenna was awed by the great wisdom her sister must possess at such a great age as eight. For myself, I was just happy to find children my age with whom I could play.
We had been playing in our makeshift playhouse since shortly after breakfast. I had gained a three day holiday from my studies because of the great horse fair at a neighboring estate. Father had taken Joshar and Ralus, my brothers, along with every man and boy on the estate, save those too elderly, or still in diapers. Brother Jesham, our tutor, had gone to keep an eye on Ralus, who was prone to mischief.
As the noonday sun beat down on the tile roof of the carriage house, directly above our heads, we began to tire of our play. Alinna became snappish as the heat increased, and Rayenna grew tired, near tears from her sister's irritation. We were all loathe to leave our hay house, though, for fear our holiday would be taken from us if we returned to the kitchens or Great Hall. Finally Alinna complained once too often of an imagined fault. Rayenna burst into tears, running blindly toward a shadowed corner where we might not see her crying. My heart went out to her, and I rounded on Alinna, full ready to invoke my position as my father's daughter to stop her abuse. I had not time to voice my displeasure, though, before Rayenna screamed, and then abruptly was silent.
I turned in panic at the sound. Rayenna was nowhere to be seen. Moving quickly, but being cautious lest I share my playmate's fate. whatever it might be, I started off in the direction she had gone. The hayloft was huge, with piles and bales of hay everywhere casting strange shadows. I had crossed perhaps half the distance to the corner, when I came upon a square hole cut in the floor of the loft. Dropping to my hands and knees, I crept closer, finally peering warily over the edge.
Rayenna lay on her side on the floor of a horse stall below me. Her hair had fallen across her face, and she lay very still. I felt faint with fear for her, but forced myself to back away from the hole, grabbing Alinna's hand as I ran past her on the way to the ladder that led down to the main level of the carriage barn. She resisted at first, but I tugged on her arm, drawing her with me.
I scrambled down the ladder, careless of the tear I heard a nail make in my dress. Once I was safely on the floor, I dodged between the wagons and carriages, at last reaching the old horse stalls, unused since Father built the large, new stable building. I ran along the row of stalls peeking into each one, until the blue of Rayenna's dress caught my eyes. I ducked into the stall, calling for Alinna to run for help as I dropped to my knees beside my friend.
Rayenna was very still, too still. I gently rolled her onto her back, straightening her arms and legs. I was greatly dismayed by the odd angle of her left arm, and alarmed by the pool of blood beneath her head. I had never seen blood before, save from skinned knees and the like. I knew that Mama always pressed towels to my brothers' cuts and scrapes, and that it seemed to make the blood cease to flow. I knew I was crying, but I knew as well that Rayenna needed me to help. I was older than she, and responsible for her.
My dress was already torn, and now I hooked my fingers in the tear, ripping away my skirt, exposing the petticoat beneath. I held the cloth against the gash in Rayenna's forehead, gasping with fear as the blood quickly soaked the cloth.
Something new, and in itself nearly as frightening as Rayenna's injuries, happened then. I felt a tingling somewhere behind my eyes, and sensed a Presence, almost as if another person knelt at my side. I had been whispering prayers to the All Mother, as Mama and Brother Jesham had taught me to do, asking Her to let Rayenna be alright. Now, it was as though She was answering me. A warm peace washed through me, and suddenly I was no longer crying, no longer afraid. The tingling behind my eyes grew, and then seemed to move into my hands. As I stared at my hands, holding the blood-soaked rag to my friend's forehead, a light began to surround my hands, glowing and pulsing a clear, pale blue. I had no words to express what I was seeing and feeling, but I knew deep down that this was something good. I continued to ask the Mother to make Rayenna whole, and when I glanced at her left arm, which I now knew had been broken, I was stunned to see it smooth and straight again. Timorously, I eased the bloody cloth away from Rayenna's forehead, blinking in surprise as I found the gash closed, gone without a trace save for the flecks of dried blood on her skin.
I dropped the rag into the hay on the floor, running my finger wonderingly along her forehead. The odd, blue light had faded away from my hands, but the sense of incredible peace continued to flow through me. I held my breath when I saw Rayenna's eyelids begin to flicker, releasing it only when she opened them, her eyes clear and blue as the autumn sky. I sat back with relief, then, and began to answer her whispered questions, assuring her that she was alright.
It was with surprise that I realized that Rayenna and I were not alone. I looked up and saw Mama in the entrance to the stall, Alinna clinging fearfully to her skirts, a dozen or more of the cooks and maids crowding behind her. The tears on Mama's cheeks made me fearful for a moment, and I tried to reassure her that Rayenna really was not hurt now. She came into the stall, dropping to her knees and gathering us both into her arms.
Rayenna and I were taken back to the main house, despite protests that we were both fine. A pallet was brought for her and set up in the corner of my chamber, and we were both tucked into bed, though it was hours yet until dinner would be served. Rayenna seemed wearied by her ordeal, but I was far from tired. I felt excited, and tossed and turned restlessly in my bed. I had heard of Healers, certainly, but so far as I knew had never met one. I had never thought that the All Mother had much to do with such things, though. The magics my sister, Elira, practiced were far from prayerful, and occasionally malevolent. She kept far from Brother Jesham, and farther still from the Mother Chapel in the garden. Still, it was clear to me that what I had felt, what I had done, had been an answer to my fervent, frightened prayers to Her.
As the shadows began to lengthen across the room, and Rayenna continued to sleep, her breathing slow and even, I gave up trying to rest and slipped out of my bed. Pulling a robe over my cotton night dress, I slipped my feet into the soft house shoes by my bed. I walked softly across the chamber, easing the door open a crack. When I was sure no one was in the corridor, I slipped out, closing the door gently behind me. I moved lightly along the dimly lit passages, my destination clear in my mind.
When I reached the small side door which led into the gardens, I paused. I had never been to the Mother Chapel alone, and never at night. Still, the need within me was too strong to be denied. I eased the door open just enough for me to pass through, silently thanking whosever conscientious oiling of the hinges had prevented them creaking. Outside, the night was warm, with the sky filled with multitudes of twinkling stars. The garden was a beautiful place under the bright sun of day, but in this silvery starlight, the beauty was surreal, almost magical. I laughed nervously at that thought, then set out along the grassy paths to the chapel.
The Mother Chapel was built in a natural cave in the center of the garden. The cave formed the back, the front portion being built of natural stones, intricately fitted together so that they needed no mortar. The structure was surrounded by a ring of thirteen oak trees, each one covered in clinging misteltoe. Ivy grew over the stones, covering them so completely that not a hint of them could be seen. Only the oaken door hiding behind swinging tendrils of ivy gave notice that this was a building.
As I approached, I saw that the door stood ajar, and candlelight filtered out between the ivy leaves, casting dappled shadows on the path. I moved closer, cautiously now. I heard Mama's voice inside the chapel, telling someone about what had happened in the carriage house. I pressed myself close to the ivy next to the door and listened. Mama had seen almost everything. I was frightened now, afraid of what would happen to me. I had heard of people being locked away in obscure towers or dungeons because they could do what I had done. Still, my fear was eclipsed by my deep certainty that the Mother had aided me that day, and that I needed to enter Her chapel to thank Her.
I slipped into the Mother Chapel as silently as I could, not wishing to have Mama or whomever she was talking to see me. I was surprised when I looked about the candlelit chapel and saw that Mama was alone. She knelt on the floor at the front of the chapel, her head bowed, a garland of violets twined about her hair. She was speaking softly but clearly as she finished the tale of Rayenna's mishap in the carriage house. It was when Mama began offering prayers of thanksgiving that I relized that she was speaking to the Mother.
I felt strangely at peace in that moment, and all my fears left me. I walked the length of the chapel and knelt at Mama's side. It was some minutes before she noticed me, in which time I offered my own silent, childish prayers. When she did see me beside her, she smiled so warmly that I knew I would not be punished for what I had done. She reached out to me and I put my tiny hand in hers. Whe knelt there together through all of that night, praying together. Never again did I fear to use the Gift the Mother gave me that day, and from that night onward I was never again a stranger to the Mother Chapel, holding a tiny piece of it in my heart.
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