Chapter Fifteen

Realising, yet again, that she was staring at the wolf, Lamorna quickly averted her gaze, feigning great interest in her bread and cheese. Dawn had not quite broken when Vanora had ushered them into the cave, which was so well hidden that Lamorna had struggled to make it out. It was where they were to rest for the day, in preparation for the night’s journey.

She was slowly getting used to the idea of her brother suckling the she-wolf; he seemed to take to it with more enthusiasm than the other milk. The beast lay on her side as Vanora held the swaddled form against the teat. Like the first time, it had not taken him long to latch on, and he’d soon guzzled his fill quite contentedly.

The silvery-white wolf was bigger than the dogs Lamorna was used to in the village, and it was hard to ignore the intelligence that shone in her amber eyes. The girl had to admit that she did feel safer, more secure with the beast as company on their journey thus far. She had even dared to harbour hopes that perhaps they would end their journey safely.

They settled down to rest, Vanora already dozing against the cave wall with the baby between her and the wolf. Fidgeting, trying to get comfortable, Lamorna’s thoughts lingered on the things Vanora had so far taught her about the White Lady, the fertility goddess who blessed family and fields; who protected the harvest and kept destructive weather at bay; who was also guardian of wild animals. As sleep overtook her, Lamorna wondered if her parents had secretly worshipped the White Lady as Lulie and Aherin did.

*                      *                      *                      *

Night was fully on them when they emerged from the cave. Lamorna was surprised by how light it seemed, and looked up at the full moon, beaming down on them. The leafy canopy was not as dense here as it had been when they’d started their journey, but she could see that they were still surrounded by many trees. Not for the first time she wondered how Vanora could walk easily through the forest for Lamorna could make out no sign of a path anywhere.

As they moved away from the cave, Lamorna was met with yet more uncertainty for this would be the last night Vanora would be with them. She trudged on in silence, paying no attention to her surroundings. Until she was brought up short by a pair of enormous, unblinking eyes. A startled cry escaped her as she stumbled back. Clutching the baby even closer, she mumbled incoherently, pointing at, what to her, seemed to be a pair of disembodied eyes.

“Oh, Lamorna.” Vanora failed to hide her relieved amusement. “You do make me laugh. Have you never seen an owl before?”

“An owl?” she repeated. “But I thought, we were told–”

“By the priests? Surely by now you must realise that whatever they have told you is no more than the truth twisted to suit their own ends.” Vanora put her arm around Lamorna who still found the staring eyes unsettling. “For us, the owl symbolises moon magic, death and renewal. We believe the White Lady can take the shape of a large owl, and in that form she brings comfort and solace to those who seek her.”

“But death–”

“Death is nothing to be afraid of, Lamorna. All living things are destined to die, that is the only way to make room for new things to come to life. When we die, we do not simply disappear. When we die, we go to the goddess. She does not die for she is a part of nature and the circle of birth, growth, death and rebirth. Those who are destined for rebirth are sent back to finish things that need to be finished. When everything has finally been resolved, then we remain spirit, and truly become one with the goddess.”

This seemed to make sense to Lamorna, and she took comfort from it. It would be so much easier not to fear death, but it was hard not to resent it for it had taken her mother and father away from her too soon.

They continued on their way, leaving the owl to silently mark their passing. Lost in her thoughts, Lamorna lost track of how much walking they’d done when she realised that Vanora had come to a halt. They were in a clearing, bathed in the shimmering glow of the full moon.

“Why have we stopped?” whispered Lamorna.

“This will be ideal. Remember what I told you before we left the cave? As tonight will be the full moon I can bless the little one in the goddess’ name.”

Looking around, Lamorna slowly handed her brother to Vanora who knelt in the circle cast by the moon. She watched silently as the white-haired woman unwrapped him from his swaddling clothes. As the moon-glow illuminated his pale skin, so he seemed to shimmer like a spirit of the night.

“But he’ll be cold,” said Lamorna.

Vanora said nothing, only continued to hum softly. The wolf settled down close by. Then kneeling by the baby’s head, the woman summoned Lamorna to kneel at his feet while she placed her hands on either side of his head, cupping it.

“Are we going to name him? Only Mam... Mam and Papa never said anything about...”

Vanora was shaking her head. “We will not be naming him. That will come later when he has lived more days on this earth. His name will reflect what he has experienced. Now we will ensure the goddess knows of him and so offer him protection.”

The child was beginning to make his displeasure known. The wolf got to her feet and settled next to him. He tried to turn towards her, mouth opening and closing like a small bird, seeking the teat. With a soft chuckle, Vanora kept her gentle hold on his head.

When she spoke, her voice took on a soft, musical quality:
“Steora, lovely Goddess of the Moon,
Benevolent Goddess, Mother to us all
Thou with moon upon thy forehead
We pray thee, bless this innocent soul.
Watch over him, Mother
Keep him from harm
Thou who wakest in starry heaven
We pray thee, bless this motherless soul.”

Lamorna found herself blinking back tears. I also am a motherless soul, she thought. Will you look after me too? It occurred to her that her brother had quietened down considerably, and seemed to be lying before her almost expectantly.

Vanora said the prayer three times, then instructed Lamorna to wrap the baby once again in his swaddling clothes.

Lamorna realised this was the closest she’d been to the wolf, and she felt as if the creature was overlooking her work, making sure she was handling the baby well. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched the fur, which was surprisingly soft; the wolf regarded her but did not pull away, in fact she did not seem to mind the girl at all.

Without warning, the wolf sprang to her feet, growling softly, staring hard at the trees past Lamorna. Crying out, the girl fell back before reaching for the baby. Soundlessly, the beast leapt away, in the opposite direction.

“What have we here?” said a gruff voice from the trees; Lamorna froze, eyes wide.

Three figures stepped into the clearing.

Lamorna struggled to her feet, holding her brother close, so close he began to protest. Blinking rapidly, she glanced around, but there was no sign of Vanora.

“Hello, little ‘un, what you doing out here on your own?”

“Yah, in dead of night.”

“What you got there?”

They advanced; she retreated, terror rendering her mute.

“Don’t be afraid, we won’t hurt you.”

A high-pitched, giggly laugh escaped one of them. “No, we take care o’ you, take good care o’ you.”

“Is that a baby you holding?”

“Your baby? You a bad girl, dropping babies all the time.”

“He’s my brother.” Indignation gave Lamorna unexpected courage.

Again, that strange laugh. “Yah! Yah, bet he is.”

“Let’s have a look then.” One of them darted forward, making a grab for him.

She pulled away, tripped and fell. He grabbed her by the ankle, holding her fast. She screamed, kicking out with her other foot.

Another grabbed her braid and yanked her head back as the third snatched the now-wailing infant from her.

“No! Give him back. Give him back.” Her cries of pain echoed around the clearing.

“Let them be.” Vanora’s soft voice cut through the chaos.

“Who–?” His impatient question turned to a lusty growl at the sight of the slender woman, her long white hair flowing free.

“This is looking better and better,” said his comrade, still holding onto Lamorna.

“Give me the child.” Vanora held her hands out for the baby.

“Come and get it.”

Gasping for breath, Lamorna stared, wondering at Vanora’s calm.

The older woman fixed the man with an unflinching stare as she walked steadily towards him. His swaggering confidence seemed to falter. Lamorna could barely make out Vanora’s quiet words; it sounded like snatches of prayer.

“Goddess of the bow, of the arrows. Huntress of the night... most powerful; grant me strength from thy silvery glow...” Standing directly before him, Vanora again held her hands out for the screaming baby.

“Vanora!” Lamorna’s warning shout ended in a cry of pain as she was slapped.

The third man had lunged towards the woman, making a grab for her hair.

Stepping neatly out of his reach, Vanora swung around, a curved blade glinting in her hand, having appeared as if by magic. She slashed her attacker across the face; he fell back with a cry of pain and surprise.

Moving swiftly, she snatched the baby from the man’s loosened grip as an owl came screeching toward him.

Lamorna struggled to free herself; the wolf appeared out of the darkness, leaping for the one who still had hold of her.

Cries of terror filled the clearing then faded into the forest as the panicked men crashed through the trees.