Daughters of Le Fay - Exclusive for Steemit - Work in Progress

A circle of willows defined the clearing. An almost complete ox-bow lake on the side closest to the stream was represented on the other side of the clearing by the remains of a massive oak, the stump of which had been sawn to make a flat surface, a sturdy table.

“You blessed the area at dawn as I instructed?” Dominic asked.

“I did, my Master.” Katherine replied, bowing her head.

He nodded. “Very good, I have performed my ceremonies. We shall begin soon.”

They waited in silence. After a little while, she became aware of someone else in the clearing. The figure, stooped and old, swathed in a light coloured cloak had seemed to appear from a direction that Katherine was sure was impassable. The figure beckoned to Dominic and Katherine.

An ancient voice radiated from the hood of the cloak:

“Greetings to you, son and daughter.” The woman’s voice was old and creaky but they heard it clear enough to answer together and Katherine realised this ancient one was female.

“Greetings to you, Mother.”

“Do you agree to abide by the Ancient’s Laws which worship and celebrate the Goddess; the Maiden, the Mother and the Hag above all other deities?”

They again replied as one: “I have followed the Goddess throughout Her seasons.”

The hooded one nodded and replied: “I will perform the appropriate ceremonies to join you both under Her protection.”

As the hooded one ended the ceremonies, a cow appeared on the edge of the clearing from the same direction that Katherine had thought the figure had come. It stood, waiting.

“Peace up to Heaven. Heaven down to Earth. Earth under Heaven. Strength in Every One. Wisdom and Strength.” The Priestess blessed the newlywed couple. Then as Katherine turned to Dominic, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw her melt into the shape of a bird, but she did not concentrate on it for too long because Dominic took her chin in a tender touch and pulled her to face him.

Then, over his shoulder, she saw a woman on the opposite bank of the stream, washing some sort of cloth in the currents. She gasped as she recognised her dead mother but the gasp broke the enchantment and the vision of her mother’s form collapsed into the mist swirling about the forest floor.

Dominic did not seem to notice his new bride’s joy or regret. Instead, he led her over to the oak stump, lifted her by her waist to sit upon the top, and then pushed her with a firm gentleness so that she lay down, legs dangling over the edge of the stump.

As he began to pull her gown up, she realised what he was doing and stopped him.

“Please, Dominic, not yet. I saw something.”

“Where?” He did not look around and he sounded impatient.

“Across the stream, I think I saw my Mother.”

“But you cannot see visions. The pain in your hand has always prevented you.” Dominic’s tone was curt and clipped, he was becoming annoyed, she could tell, but for once, Katherine persisted.

“I know, but I did see her. Let me try once more?”

Before he could forbid it, she slid from the stump and crossed the clearing to stand at the side of the ox-bow lake. The mist on the other side of the stream swirled as though blown by the mildest of breezes. Katherine concentrated and for a second or so, the mist seemed to gather substance, to form the foundation for a shape perhaps reclining low to the ground. But her hand’s ache prevented her from concentrating and the image drifted away from its form.

“Oh, Morgana,” she whispered.

“What is it wife?” Dominic asked, the impatience still in his voice but masked now.

“I almost saw her, but my hand…” she lifted it in dismay.

“We have one final ceremony that we can try,” he reminded her. “But you were reluctant to take the final step.”

“I am no longer unwilling.” She said with resolution.

Dominic nodded and they returned to the stump.

She watched and waited whilst he took candles from his bag. He arranged them to follow a particularly wide age line around the perimeter of the stump top. Then he took his most treasured ceremonial knife, removed the wrapping from it and placed it on the cloth at the centre of the stump.

“Promise me you will not hurt me too much.”

“Of course I promise.”

She stood still as he pulled the drawstring open at her neck. Then he pulled her shift over her shoulders with no passion or tenderness and Katherine did not expect any. He pulled it on down to her waist and over her hips and to her feet. She stepped out of the puddle of fabric and he led her to her position and pushed down on her shoulders to encourage her to kneel. She laid her right arm across the top of the oak stump and placed her forehead on her left hand at the edge, closing her eyes.

Her new husband held her right forearm tight and muttered words she recognised by the shape they made in the air and others that she did not recognise. Her apprenticeship had come to an end just the previous day and she had thought he had taught her all he knew. He had promised to teach her all he knew, but for her to know all he did, she would have recognised all of the words in the ceremony.

She started to lift her head to question him, just as he brought down the razor edged blade of the heavy ceremonial knife onto her neck. Her eyes widened in the shock of betrayal, a tiny murmur of surprise was cut off below the blade and never made it to her ears.

She did still hear though, she heard her body half slump, held only by her right arm and her ruined hand. Then she heard the blade once more and her arm was free to thump onto the forest floor, preceded by her upper body.

Her eyes still saw. She saw her husband take her useless hand and hold the bleeding base over the largest of the candles in order to seal the stump. She saw her body lifeless on the ground. She saw him turn to her head and lift it by the tresses of red hair, already matted with her life-blood. She saw him kiss her lips and as her senses at last departed, she saw him laugh.