He had known. And he had called to her.
Smiling, she turned over, curled up and went back to sleep.
When she stirred again, it was a different sort of hunger that woke her. Blinking in the sunshine filtering down through the pine trees, she tried to think when she had last eaten. Unable to remember — and quite sure that it was far too long ago to be good for her — she got up, dressed and made her way back up the track towards the stone circle.
It occurred to her when she was only a short way up the path that perhaps she should roll up those beautiful furs and make some attempt to return them to their owner. He had quietly left her to sleep, and it seemed a little ungrateful just to abandon their bed. She turned and went back along the track.
She could find neither the furs, the dead fire, nor the thicket of bramble and bracken.
Shaken, for the first time afraid and suddenly desperate to get back to Meggie, she ran away up the path.
Back in the cheerful company of the young women’s camp, she soon forgot her fright. Many of them, it seemed, had had strange experiences during the night just past, yet none was perturbed. On the contrary; they appeared to regard the occasion as one for which to be deeply thankful.
Suckling Meggie — who, according to the women who had been watching the babies, had taken a small feed from her and then slept soundly for the rest of the night — Joanna felt her feet slowly return to Earth. When, a little later, Cailleach returned to the camp with a deep purple love bite on her neck, Joanna had to suppress a giggle.
The two of them talked for a while, teasing one another, and some of the other young women joined in. To begin with, Joanna was quite surprised at their ribaldry, but then she thought, why should I be shocked? What possible evil can there be in men and women lying together in the Great Mother’s name, giving and receiving pleasure and, for a time, love?
But as she thought on this, something occurred to her. She had borne two children and knew herself to be fertile. Meggie was her delight, and she would not be without her for the world. But to bear another child, that was another matter. What if it should be a boy? Life in the forest was not the life for a young man.
Or was it?
This morning, after all that had happened, she found that convictions which she had formerly held so rigidly were taking on an air of uncertainty.
Nevertheless, she beckoned Cailleach over to her and asked in a low voice, ‘Do we — I mean, do any of the girls become pregnant after the festivals?’
Cailleach laughed. ‘Of course! It is the same act of love, Joanna, even if it comes at the Goddess’s bidding. Children born of the festival nights are especially blessed because we believe they have Her kiss on their brow.’
It was a lovely concept. But still Joanna was not entirely happy. ‘Do we — that is, what if we think that it’s not actually the right time for a baby?’
Cailleach regarded her kindly. ‘We put our trust in the Great Mother,’ she said. Then, a smile breaking out on her face, ‘Although there are steps that we can take if we are not ready for a pregnancy.’
‘Are there?’ Joanna was amazed.
Cailleach laughed delightedly. ‘You have lived in the old ways for a year and you do not know?’
It hasn’t been relevant until now, Joanna thought. But she merely said, ‘No. Please tell me, Cailleach.’
Cailleach sat down on the ground beside her and told her of the workings of her body. Then she explained how to make conception more likely, and how to make sure it did not happen at all. She told Joanna of the mysterious cycle that kept pace with the Moon, how to calculate which were the most and the least fertile days.
‘You wish to know whether you conceived last night, I would guess,’ Cailleach said when she had finished the lesson.
‘Yes.’
Cailleach studied her for a moment. ‘No. You did not.’
‘How do you know?’ Joanna burst out.
Cailleach grinned. ‘You are about to have your courses. Tomorrow, perhaps even later today, the blood will flow.’
‘But-’
From close at hand, another of the women laughed. ‘Is that Cailleach working her magic again?’ she said, eyes on her child feeding at the breast. ‘You believe her, young Joanna, she is never wrong.’
Joanna gazed at Cailleach. ‘How do you know?’ she asked again, whispering now.
‘Experience,’ Cailleach said modestly. ‘Anyone can do it with practice.’
Watching her as she gracefully got up and wandered away, Joanna thought, there has to be more to it than that. She’s only my age, if that, so just where has all this experience come from? She hasn’t had the time!
And, as if in confirmation, the woman who had laughed said, ‘She’s a midwife in a hundred, is Cailleach. They nickname her Mab because they say the fairies taught her.’
Then, as if her remark had been nothing more than some mundane utterance about the weather, or the plans for the next meal, she calmly returned to feeding her baby.
There was one more day of celebrations — far less exuberant than the one before — and then the gathering began to break up. One by one groups set off from the hilltop, seen on their way by the singing of the others. Joanna, busy with tying up her pack, felt a tap on her shoulder.
A young man stood there. He had thick auburn hair, smoky grey eyes and a shy smile. He said, ‘I’m a silversmith. I heard tell you were looking for one.’
Too much had happened in the last two days for Joanna to ask who had told him or how he had found her. She simply said, ‘Yes, I am. Thank you for seeking me out.’ Then, pulling out the claw on its thong, she held it out to him. ‘Could you set this in silver, with a ring on the top from which to hang it?’
He was staring at the claw, his eyes wide. ‘Yes, I can,’ he said slowly. ‘It’ll be a rare test.’
‘Is it a difficult task, then?’
He looked up at her, smiling briefly. ‘Not difficult, no. It’s the honour, see.’
She thought she did see. ‘I do not know how I can pay you,’ she said. ‘I have some skills, so perhaps if you name your price?’
But he shook his head. ‘I don’t want payment,’ he said gently, ‘thank you all the same.’ Before she could protest, he added, ‘That piece of thong’s all very well, but a thing such as this should have something better.’
‘It’s all I have.’
Again he gave her his gentle smile. ‘You just leave it with me,’ he said. ‘When I’m done I’ll come and find you.’
She passed the thong over her head. Without the claw resting over her heart, she felt suddenly vulnerable. Reluctantly she held it out.
The young man took it. Studying her, he said, ‘Don’t worry, lass. I’ll be swift. You will have your treasure back before you sleep this night.’
He was as good as his word.
Joanna and her group left the hillside after the midday meal. They marched for a few hours then, as night fell, found a place to camp for the night. As she was settling herself after the evening meal — she had just begun to bleed and was uncomfortable, feeling bloated and in some pain — the silversmith came to find her.
He held out the bear’s claw for her to see. Now it was set in solid silver and it hung on a fine silver chain, of some intricate design that she had never seen before. Putting out her hand to take it, she said, ‘It is beautiful, even more so now that your work has enhanced it.’
He bowed his head at her words. ‘Thank you. I am glad that you are pleased.’
‘More than pleased!’ she exclaimed. ‘I don’t know how I can repay you.’
He backed away as she spoke, making a gesture with his hands. ‘There is no need for that, as I said. It has — I mean, the task is its own reward.’
Then, bowing to her, he backed away and disappeared into the darkness.
She never saw him again.
13
Home once again in her own dwelling, Joanna looked back on Imbolc as if on a dream. All that had happened at the festival was so far removed from everything that had hitherto made up her normal experience that there seemed little else she could do.