 |
Cybele had been caused much pain by having to leave Cabirius locked in his cell, at the mercy of a sorcerous jailer. But, she knew in her mind that it was their only option. Her own leadership of the Isle was not secure enough to challenge Thomias and Jenna openly until she had irrefutable proof, and the proof that she required would take time to collect. It was Cabirius's own mind. Attis suggested that it could take many moons for his sense to return, even once they released him from the supply of Jenna's mind-numbing potion. It was a risk to leave him still within her grasp, but there was no way that they could keep him hidden on this small Isle. The best place for them to shelter him from her notice was to keep him under her very nose. They could ensure that he had supply of food and water that was not laced with the stupefying bark, and slowly he could repair in both body and mind. At least he seemed to be safe from more serious danger. He would have been long ago dead instead of kept in a stupour, if the Priests' new God had not prevented such a thing. Then there was the second victim of the same condition, the girl Kelle. Her torpor was supposed to be the result of a rape by Cabirius, but Attis and Cybele now knew it to be caused by the same sorcery which held her alleged aggressor. It would be less easy to mend Kelle, as she was rarely out of the sight of her guardian and jailer, Jenna. Jenna would defend her charge from any approach by the Chosen Ones. Kelle was, in fact, more important as a witness against Jenna and Thomias than Cabirius. This was because Cabirius had fallen into their grasp when charged with a violent crime, and his accusations against them would fall on unsympathetic ears unless Kelle could finally speak to defend him. Cybele had wondered at times if Kelle would defend or decry him if she could speak. It had been clear at the time that there had indeed been a brutal ravishment. The physical evidence had pointed to Cabirius undeniably. His torn face dripped blood still when they found him returned to the place of the deed, and he offered no defence. Cybele could not comprehend that he was capable of such behaviour. She was his lover then, and knew him as a gentle, sensitive and mild man. She could not even reconcile that the two may have incurred such injuries in a consenting mutual act, as Attis had suggested to her. She simply thought him immune to a dark passion such as the one she shared with Attis. In all these moons of hunting in her mind for an explanation, she had found none. Even the newly discovered truth of Jenna's potion did not answer the question of just what had happened on that wild Winter's afternoon six moons ago. Perhaps if ever Kelle recovered her tongue, her tale would not be one of Cybele's liking. Cybele and Attis had returned to the settlement that night of the Harvester Moon and slipped into her hut by way of the outer door in the wall which encircled the village. She had poured a cup of wine from which they drank in turns then idly sat it back on the table between them. She was in a state of distress from the abandonment of Cabirius, and Attis comforted her kindly. 'Now that we know of the spell, we shall return him to his old self in no time, Cybele.' 'How know we that his mind can even repair? Know you anything of herbs? No, and neither do I. And we can hardly ask the village Healer, can we, when it is she that prepares the poison draught. The only other I know who had such knowledge is now victim herself of her own mentor. For all we know, their brains may be as rotten as a windfall apple.' 'No,' Attis protested. 'Could you not see it behind his staring eyes? His mind was there, sharp and sure as ever. That is why I think he shall soon recover. If it could do lasting injury to his mind, there would no longer be need to still dose him after all this time, which she surely does. I am sure he will soon begin to repair. I believe he even knew of the poison and had tried his best to resist it. You saw how thin he had become. But he could not have avoided it altogether or he would have died of thirst. Did he not tell you my own tale of being kept prisoner in the same way as a child? He knew that I buried my food and drank only rainwater from the sill, and that was how I alone of all newcomers kept my mainland memories in my mind's eye. He has tried the same method, but I only had to survive one moon without food instead of his six, and it is now High Summer, and there is no rain falling on the sill.' 'But what of his arrest? He was not in a trance then, and he was led to his confinement without complaint. He was in a distressed state, it is true, but he was as sentient as you or I,' she argued. 'When we found Kelle in the wood, was she in her current state? No. There is more than one herb, Cybele, that works on the mind. I am no Priestess or Healer, but even I know that.' 'So you think they were both drugged by Jenna before even we found them, and it was mistaken by all as shock and remorse?' 'It seems likely. Which of us on the Isle has enough experience of herb lore to recognise a charm when we see it? You saw Kelle's eyes, with unmoving pupils such that we thought she was on the very hearth of death. And her fluttering racing heart, soft as a moth's wing. If we had been Healers ourselves, I have no doubt we would have seen the deception then and saved them both this half-year of mindless stupour.' One tear escaped from Cybele's eye. 'So it is our own fault,' she said softly. Attis reached across the table and clasped her hand. 'Be not foolish. You know that is not true. What we can do is now work to rescue them both, for the past can only be changed in books and in mind, not in fact.' She sniffed and dried her nose on her sleeve. 'Cabirius likely thought we would take him from that place tonight. I hope he does not despair when he awakes to find himself still in his cell.' 'He will most probably mistake it all for a dream, Cybele, and I hope he thinks it was a pleasant one,' Attis said gently, and she smiled a little. 'What can we do for Kelle, Attis? Think you we could get her away from Jenna in any way?' 'Not without a fight.' 'Methinks I am ready for a fight,' she said bitterly. 'But the Isle is not. Do not let them drive you to a confrontation before you are sure you will win,' he warned. 'It seems I have few allies, it is true. Am I so poor a leader?' 'The exodus to the new God started well before your lifetime, Cybele, as did the resurgence of the Crone. Both causes have been well served by the absence of a Chosen One these past four score Winters, and you should have expected resistance from the both.' 'Strange allies, the Destroyer Goddess and the Priests' bloodless God. I would have thought them enemy to each other far more than to our mild Goddess.' said Cybele. 'Uneasy bedfellows, I agree, and allies only until our defeat. Then, they shall turn on each other like wolverines.' 'Think you our defeat inevitable?' 'We are but a small Isle, which has held for the Goddess when she is no longer even a memory in most lands. If she could not stop the march of the nameless God in all those places, what chance has she here?' he said with sad resignation in his voice 'Us, Attis. We are her chance.'
copyright
held 1996-2000 |
