Cate Tiernan - Origins

I am riding upon his shoulders at the seashore. Then suddenly we are here in the town square, dancing with torches like witches around the Beltane fires. Then I am on a seaside cliff, holding a soft bundle in my arms. When I open the flap, I peer into the face of my own baby. A girl, of course. She smells of honeysuckle and clover. But we cannot stay here. The ocean is rising from a storm. And suddenly the wave is cresting, taller and taller, over our heads. I must run to save her.

I lifted my head and reached forward, trying to grasp my baby. My fingers brushed the ashes of my ceremonial fire, and I remembered that I was in my cell, sleeping in my circle under a smoky gray sky.

I arose and slipped on my gown, struggling to fasten the girdle over my bulging belly. Throughout the night the shouts of villagers and the noise of people scrambling about had penetrated the numbness that gripped me. Now that daylight was flooding in through the ceiling, the smell of fire was thick in the air. How could the smoke from my spell linger so?

The door opened, and a bowl of biscuits was tossed in. “Here’s your milk,” the guard said, eyeing me warily as he placed the pitcher inside the door. “And don’t be laying a curse upon my head, for I am just doing my job, and I have three young bairns at home.”

I blinked. What was he blubbering about? But before I could ask, the door slammed shut, leaving me to my breakfast. I ate every last crumb, surprised at the calm that had overtaken me. I had resigned myself that my baby and I would be reborn together; that was the vision I would cling to in my last hours.

When the door opened for me to go to the gallows, I stepped into the smoky haze with my chin high and a small measure of courage. If Siobhan and the others were going to condemn me, I would not let them have the satisfaction of seeing that they had indeed broken my spirit.

I will see you when the Wheel turns, I told the child within me. How I will delight in the sight of your sweet face!

I followed the guards to the gallows, surprised that they did not try to bind my hands or manhandle me today. They did cast nervous glances, but somehow their eyes no longer held the utter disdain I’d seen the day before.

Arriving at the village square, I was surprised to see such a small group of witnesses assembled. I wondered at the scarcity of onlookers, especially when I had been such a spectacle the day before. And where was Ma? I couldn’t believe she wouldn’t come to be with me as I took my last breath. Kyra stood by the gallows, swathed in black. But Diarmuid and Siobhan were absent, as was the village reverend, who had been my chief persecutor.

I looked at the strange faces, wondering what had happened to my enemies. Had the spell worked? Perhaps Siobhan had been stricken down, unable to attend my execution. The thought offered some satisfaction.

As I walked up to the gallows, Kyra came up to me. “If I may have a moment,” she told the guards, and they stepped back. Kyra put her arms around me for a hug, and I wanted to cry, feeling as if she were the last person on earth who cared for me. I hugged her back, the sting of tears in my eyes.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” I told her, my voice cracking with emotion. “They’ll persecute you just for knowing me.”

“I have lied to them, Rose, and they remember me not,” she whispered in my ear. “As I stand here, the guards think I’m a preacher’s daughter from a village to the north, come to speak the word of the Christian God to a condemned prisoner.”

I sobbed, afraid to let her go.

“Don’t look down,” she whispered, “but I’m pressing a charm into your hands for protection. Amber. I charged it myself.” She winced, adding, “I hope it works.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, pleased that Kyra was working her own magick at last. “You are the only one who’s come to say good-bye.”

“Many did not survive the night.” She frowned. “It seems there was a terrible fire in Lillipool last night. That is why smoke hangs in the air.”

“A fire?” I tried to tamp down my curiosity. What had my spell done?

Kyra nodded. “Nobody was present to see the flames, only the ruin left in its wake. It appears that it swept through the village, then leaped to neighboring cottages in the countryside. I. I’m afraid Diarmuid was lost in it.”

I blinked, feeling no sense of loss. ’Twas a marvel how drastically my feelings for him had changed, yet Diarmuid was the reason I was here. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if the fire had been the result of my spell. “What of Siobhan?” I asked.

“She died, as did her whole family and Reverend Winthrop, who was celebrating with them. The Highlands have never seen such an act of destruction; ’tis no doubt the fury of the Goddess.” Kyra narrowed her eyes, studying me curiously. “So you do not know anything of this?”

“Is that what people think?”

“Some say you cast a spell in your fury over being condemned to die.” She nodded toward the guards. “That’s why they are so afraid of you today.”

I turned toward the guards. One of them caught my eye and turned away quickly, as if he could avoid a curse by keeping his back turned. And with Reverend Winthrop gone. who would see to it that my sentence was carried out? These cowering guards?

The winds of fate had shifted, and I could feel the power of the Goddess swirling around me.

I was not going to die. I knew that now.

“So my spell worked,” I said, loud enough for everyone in the square to hear. ’Twas a strange thrill to speak of witch matters before the Christian villagers. Heads snapped toward me in fear, and I smiled. “Yes, the fire was my doing. I used all my powers to punish the evil. They not only persecuted me, they acted on their hatred of my clan every day. They’ve been persecuting Wodebaynes for years!”

The few people assembled in the square began to disperse in fear. One lady hitched up her skirts and quickly ran off. Two men meandered toward the church as if they were taking an afternoon stroll.

I swung toward the guards, wondering if I would need to shoot dealan-dé to scare them off.

“Don’t curse us!” one of them said, covering his face with his hands. “We mean you no harm!”

“I thought you were about to hang me?” I asked.

The heavyset guard shook his head. “We’ll not lay a finger on you, as long as you promise not to practice your sorcery on us.”

“All right, then...” I cast them a fierce look. “Begone, before I turn you into toads or peahens.”

They hurried off, not even looking back. I crossed my arms over my belly, aware of the tingling power inside me. My spell had worked. I knew I should feel jubilant—elated! Instead, I felt only a compulsion to leave the scene of my trial.

“By the Goddess, I cannot believe I am walking away from my own execution,” I said as Kyra and I strode through the town. I was beyond feeling relief as I walked stiffly down the lane.

“So you really did cast a spell?” she asked wonderingly.

“Indeed, and by the grace of the Goddess, she fulfilled it.”

“Many say it wasn’t the Goddess,” she said quietly. “Some say it was dark magick. A huge taibhs .”

I sighed. “Let their tongues wag. The spell I cast was just a return of all the evil Siobhan had sent my way, threefold.”

Kyra nodded, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced. Let her be, I thought. She had always been näive. Someday she would understand.

As I walked home, I was surprised at the respect paid me by passersby. A man with a cart offered me a ride, and two passing ladies actually bowed before me. I knew they had heard of the fires, which had quickly turned me into a local legend, it seemed. I had always known of my powers, but for once it was nice to have others acknowledge my gifts.