The remedies had always worked.
If she had stopped to think about it, Joanna would have said that Mag was still there in her memory, vivid, full of life, and that she was recalling instructions that Mag had given her in the past. But, now that the Domina seemed to be suggesting an alternative explanation, it occurred to Joanna that Mag hadn’t given her any instruction in the care of young babies. Meggie had been born — had been conceived — after Mag had died.
Joanna raised her eyes and stared into the Domina’s.
The Domina nodded, smiling her satisfaction. ‘Good,’ she murmured. Then: ‘You named your child after her.’
‘I did. She is called Margaret, but I usually shorten it to Meggie.’
The Domina’s smile had widened and now there was an uncharacteristically soft expression on her face. ‘We used to call Mag by the same pet name,’ she said softly.
Joanna was still trying to absorb the implications of that when the Domina said, in quite a different voice, ‘You wear the claw.’
‘Oh! Yes. I was given it at Yule. I was alone — too busy and preoccupied with Meggie to attend the festival — and one of the men came to see me. He was wearing his animal mask and cloak and he left me this.’ She pulled the claw out from inside her gown. ‘It was such a kindness,’ she said quietly, ‘to leave the celebration and pay me a visit. It made me feel that I was not forgotten. I suppose the festival must have been held quite close by but, all the same, he missed quite a lot of it for my sake.’
The Domina made no reply. Surprised, Joanna looked up from her contemplation of the claw. The older woman was staring at her. When she had assured herself that she had Joanna’s full attention, she said tonelessly, ‘The festival of Yule was held three days’ walk from where you have your forest house.’
‘But then-’ Joanna could not take it in. ‘But did he not attend the festival, then? Did he stay away too?’
‘Who do you mean by he?’ the Domina asked.
‘I — well, one of the forest people who live close to me, I suppose.’ She had not really thought about it before. ‘I have encountered a few of them. They have helped me out sometimes, and some of them have called by to show me something or teach me a new skill. I imagine it was one of them.’
‘Did you recognise him?’
‘No. As I said, he wore his bear mask. But-’
But what? She did not know.
After quite a long pause, the Domina said, ‘Do not assume, child. Keep an open mind.’
And, a few moments later, she waved her hand again and Joanna was dismissed. As she turned to leave the little shelter, the Domina spoke again. ‘You have been initiated as one of our people, Joanna,’ she said. ‘You have done what was required for this first step.’
A first step? Oh, did that mean there would be more? Joanna felt her heartbeat quicken in faint alarm.
‘Have no fear,’ the Domina went on calmly. ‘You will not be asked to do anything that is beyond you. When the time comes, remember that what you have done before, you can do again.’
Joanna waited to see if she would enlarge on this enigmatic piece of advice. But there was nothing; watching the Domina, she saw her close her eyes and sink back into her furs.
Back within the circle, somebody gave Joanna a drink. She gulped it down thirstily, and they gave her some more. Cailleach came by, dancing in the midst of a long chain of young men and women. Two of the men took Joanna’s hands and swept her up with them. Laughing, singing, she danced with her people.
The celebrations went on for a long time. Only as the faintest break in the darkness beyond the stone circle began to appear did men and women begin to slip away. They went in pairs, happily, joyfully together. They would, Joanna was well aware, find a quiet corner in which to lie together, honouring the Great Mother in an act of love.
Her body yearned to do the same. But she knew nobody, had met no man who was likely to seek her out and entice her to lie with him amongst his warm furs.
As the chain of dancers dwindled to the last few, she turned away. Heading out of the circle and towards her camp, her feet dragged. It was very dark under the pine trees and, as soon as she was away from the fires, also very cold. She shivered, wrapping her cloak more tightly around her.
The path back to the camp was longer than she remembered. Feeling the beginnings of alarm, she wondered if she had managed to get lost. Oh, surely not, she thought, how could I be so foolish? After all, it’s not far.
Concentrating, trying to peer into the darkness of the trees for a familiar sign, she thought she recognised the track. Relieved, she set off confidently down it.
Only to realise, a little later, that it could not be right after all. If it were, she should be at her camp by now.
What to do? Go on? Turn back?
Go on.
She did not know where the command came from. Nevertheless, she obeyed it. Moving now as if in a trance, she followed the path. Her feet fell with a soft thud on the aeons of fallen pine needles that made up the ground; she seemed to feel a warmth emanating from them, as if the very ground was magical.
Then she came to a tiny clearing. A space had been made right in the midst of a thicket of bramble and bracken, and within it burned a little fire. Beside the fire was a dark shape lying in a den of fur.
She knew who he was.
The great head was raised in greeting, and she saw the smile of the man within the mask of the bear. Without a word being spoken, she knew that he had heard her silent yearning and called her to him.
Quite unafraid, she went through the bracken and knelt down beside him. He welcomed her into the circle of his warmth and she felt the soft bear fur brush against her skin. His breath smelt of the forest. Pulling her close to him so that she could feel the slow, steady, powerful throb of the great heart that beat within his breast, he bent his head and kissed her.
She would have expected to feel very cold without her cloak and her gown but he had heat enough for them both. Wrapped in his arms that were at the same time human and animal, she gave herself to him and he surrounded her with the essence of himself. His strong aura embraced her and, in total trust, she surrendered into his care. He was a bear, he was a man; he was both. Yet, when at last the moment came and he entered into her, it was, as she had all along known it would be, as a man.
They lay there in the light of his fire and she relaxed, utterly spent, into him. She felt his large hand gently stroke her sweat-damp hair from her face and turned her head a little to look at him. She saw both images, the bear mask and the human smile. Returning the smile, she pressed her breasts into his pelt. She felt the claw that she wore around her neck digging into her skin.
‘Thank you for the gift,’ she murmured. ‘I treasure it.’
Inside her head she heard him reply. You will never be alone now.
‘I know.’ She caressed the strong, heavily muscled shoulder. ‘I feel. .’ She wanted to tell him that what he had done for her made the difference, so that now she felt at home in the forest where before she had been merely visiting.
While she was still fumbling for the right words he answered. It is understood. A pause, then: It is right.
Relaxing, feeling sleep overcome her, she knew there was no more to be said.
She awoke to thin daylight. The fire had all but gone out but, snugly wrapped in furs, she was warm.
She was alone.
Stretching luxuriously, she felt the kiss of the pelts against her naked flesh. Memory came flooding back, and she felt again the violence of her climax. Oh, but she had needed that! And she had not even suspected her need; it was only when the dancers had begun to creep away that she had felt the stirrings of that primal hunger.