Page 104 of The Faerie Handmaid

They walked a few more steps while Idhri thought about this. As they reached the slope down to the dock, he said, “Are you pleased, Braithe, or do you wish you could come back to the Isle?”

She glanced up at him, and her eyes were very blue in the late-summer sun. “Both, Idhri. I am pleased, because I have found important work to do. I also wish I could come back to the Temple, to be Priestess Morgana’s handmaid again.” She gave a little shrug. “I thought I would always be a handmaid, but now I am—well, I have no word for what I am.”

“Now you are Priestess Braithe,” Idhri said, and grinned. “And Camulod will be glad to have you.” And so will I. Braithe’s lips twitched, and he knew she heard his thought.

They reached the dock, where Master Hugh was readying the boat for the trip. When he saw them, he took off his cap, saying, “Good morning, Priestess Braithe.”

Idhri pressed his lips together to keep from laughing as Braithe shot him a vivid blue glance. She said in composed fashion, “Good morning to you, Master Hugh.”

Three black-robed figures appeared at the top of the slope, almost invisible in the glare of the sun. One was Priestess Morgana, her shining silver hair unmistakable. Another, Idhri thought, squinting up at them, was that old priestess, the one whose hands were always dirty. He didn’t recognize the third. She hung back while the old priestess walked with Priestess Morgana down to the dock.

Idhri took the basket from Priestess Morgana’s hands and stowed it in the boat. Master Hugh said, “We’re ready when they are, lad.”

“Aye.” Idhri held out his hand to help Braithe into the boat. When she was comfortably seated, he began to unwind the mooring rope from the bollard, putting him in perfect position to overhear the two priestesses’ conversation.

The old priestess, whose name Idhri recalled was Niamh, said, “There’s no need to feel guilty about this, Morgana.”

“Except I have been away so much this summer.”

“Your last absence was hardly pleasurable.”

“True.”

“And your handmaid is correct. You need rest. Let her indulge you for a bit, especially since she is not returning with you.”

“I will be back soon.”

“Of course. Give the young king the regards of all of us here on the Isle.”

“I will do that.”

“And Morgana—” There was a little pause, and Idhri slowed his work with the rope, wanting to hear the end. He took a furtive glance at the two women and saw that the old priestess had put her hand on Priestess Morgana’s arm. “I know now what I have often suspected. Seeing you with Councillor Emerlyn erased my doubts.”

Morgana stood very still. “You guessed I was fae,” she murmured.

“Yes. And now I’m sure.”

“Priestess Niamh—do you mind?”

Niamh made a pffft noise and chuckled. “We are all the beneficiaries of your magic, Morgana. And unlike too many of the fae, you wield it with discipline and compassion. Not only do I not mind, I’m grateful.”

“I would prefer to keep it secret.”

“Of course, for now. You may change your mind.”

“Perhaps.”

Idhri dropped his gaze swiftly as Morgana turned toward the dock. She strode forward, and he stood up to help her into the boat, which she allowed him to do this time. Her seat next to Braithe was ready, but she didn’t take it. She moved to the prow and stood there, a slender, black-robed figure, her silver hair catching the light.

Braithe, looking up from her place on the bench seat, smiled. “I believe we are ready, Idhri. Master Hugh.”

Idhri pulled up the coil of rope, and his master took up the oars. With Priestess Morgana braced against the hull, looking forward, they slid away from the dock and out toward the circle of mist. Idhri glanced back once to see Niamh, her hands tucked into her sleeves, watching them go with an impassive expression. He lifted one hand in farewell, and she inclined her head to him as if he were a person of consequence.

If the elder priestess didn’t mind that Morgana was fae, perhaps she wouldn’t mind that he was a half-blood. Idhri felt the last of his anxieties slipping away as they floated into the cool gray fog of Ilyn and turned toward home.

35

It was a curious feeling for Braithe to be bringing Morgana to Camulod, as if she were the hostess and the priestess her visitor. She marveled at how swiftly things could change. She had to resist pointing things out as they climbed up the hill from the dock, how the gardens flourished, how gay the red pennants of peacetime were, snapping cheerfully above the courtine. She nodded to the workers they encountered as they walked through the keep and called several by name, which made Morgana turn to gaze at her, either surprised or impressed, Braithe didn’t know. She did not trespass on Morgana’s thoughts to find out as they moved on toward the western tower.