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The problem was that although the girl’s muscular body was covered with a sleek coat of horsehair from the waist down, and she had hooves instead of feet, except for the extraordinary muscles in her lower body she was otherwise built very much like a human female. So she needed a garment that would allow her the freedom to exercise the inhuman speed with which she had been gifted, as well as keep her decently covered. Etain and her daughter had experimented with many different styles before happening upon one that successfully accomplished both needs.
The result had worked well, except that it left so much of Elphame’s body visible. It mattered little that the women of Partholon had always been free to proudly display their bodies. Etain regularly bared her breasts during blessing rituals to signify Epona’s love of the female form. When Elphame uncovered her hoofed legs, people stared in outright shock and awe at the sight of the Chosen’s so obviously Goddess-touched body.
Elphame loathed being the recipient of the stares.
So it had become habit for Elphame to dress conservatively in public, only shedding her flowing robes when she ran, which was almost always alone and well away from the temple.
“Oh, I found it!” El cried, and trotted over to a log not far from where they stood.
She picked up the length of fine linen that had been dyed the color of emeralds and began winding it around her slim waist. Her breathing had already returned to normal; the fine sheen of sweat that had caused the downy hair on her bare arms to glisten had already dried.
She was in spectacular shape. Her body was sleek, athletic and perfectly honed, but there was nothing harsh or masculine about its casing. Her lovely brown skin looked silky and seductively touchable; it was only after actually touching her that the finely wrapped strength of the muscles beneath the skin could be fully realized.
But few people dared to touch the young goddess.
She was tall, towering several inches over her mother’s five-foot-seven-inch frame. During early puberty she had been thin and a little awkward, but soon the curves and fullness of womanhood had replaced that coltishness. Her lower body was a perfect mixture of human and centaur. She had the beauty and allure of a woman, and the strength and grace of a centaur.
Etain smiled at her daughter. As from the moment of her birth, she had embraced Elphame’s uniqueness with a fierce, protective love. “You don’t have to wear that wrap, El.” She hadn’t realized she had spoken her thought aloud until her daughter looked quickly up at her.
“I know you do not think I need to.” Her voice, usually so like her mother’s, suddenly hardened with suppressed emotion. “But I have to. It is not the same for me. They do not look upon me as they do you.”
“Has someone said something to hurt you? Tell me who it is and he will know the wrath of a goddess!” Green fire flashed in Etain’s eyes.
Elphame’s voice lost all expression as she answered her mother. “They do not need to say anything, Mama.”
“Precious one—” the anger melted from Etain’s eyes “—you know the people love you.”
“No, Mama.” She held up her hand to stop her mother from interrupting. “They love you. They idolize and worship me. It is not the same thing.”
“Of course they worship you, El. You are the eldest daughter of the Beloved of Epona, and you have been blessed by the Goddess in a very special way. They should worship you.”
The mare moved forward until her muzzle lipped the young woman’s shoulder. Before she answered, El reached around the mare’s head to stroke her gleaming neck.
She looked up at her mother and said with a conviction that made her sound older than her years, “I am different. And no matter how badly you want to believe that I fit in, it’s just not the same for me. That is why I must leave.”
Etain’s stomach clenched at her daughter’s words, but she forced herself to remain silent and allow her to continue.
“I’m treated like I am a thing apart. Not that I’m treated badly,” she added quickly, “just apart. Like I’m something they are afraid to get too close to because I might…” Here she faltered and laid her cheek against the broad forehead of the silver mare. “…I don’t know…might shatter. Or perhaps cause them to shatter. So they treat me like I am a statue that has come miraculously to life right in front of them.”
My beautiful, lonely daughter, Etain thought, feeling the familiar ache of not having the solution to end her firstborn’s pain.
“But statues aren’t loved, not really. They’re cared for and kept in a place of honor, but they aren’t loved.”
“I love you.” Etain’s voice sounded choked.
“Oh, I know, Mama!” Her head flew up and her eyes met her mother’s. “You and Da, and Cuchulainn and Finegas and Arianrhod all love me. You have to, you’re my family,” she added with a quick smile. “But even your private guards, who adore you unquestioningly and would give their lives for either of us, believe I am something essentially untouchable.”
The mare moved a step forward and El leaned against the side of the horse. Etain ached to take her daughter in her arms, but she knew that the young woman would stiffen and tell her she was no longer a child, so she contented herself with stroking her satin hair, willing Epona’s comfort from her hands into her daughter’s body.
“That’s why you came out here today, wasn’t it?” El asked quietly.
“Yes,” her mother responded simply. “I wanted to try one more time to talk you out of going.” Etain paused thoughtfully before she spoke again. “Why not stay here and take my place, El?”
Her daughter jolted upright and started to shake her head violently from side to side, but Etain doggedly continued.
“I have had a long, rich reign. I am ready to retire.”
“No!” Elphame’s voice was adamant. Just the thought of taking her mother’s place sent a thread of panic through her. “You are not ready to retire! Look at you. You look decades younger than your age. You love performing the rituals of Epona, and the people need you to continue. And you must remember the most important thing, Mama. The spirit realm is closed to me. I have never heard Epona’s voice or felt the touch of her magic…” The sadness of the truth of her words settled resolutely on Elphame’s face. “I have never felt any magic at all.”
“But Epona speaks to me of you often,” Etain said softly, touching her daughter’s cheek. “Her hand has been upon you since before your birth.”
“I know. I know the Goddess loves me, but I am not her Chosen One.”
“Not yet,” her mother added.
Elphame’s only response was to lean against the warm familiarity of the horse’s neck while the mare nuzzled her affectionately.
“I still do not understand why you must leave.”
“Mama,” Elphame said, turning her head so she could look up at her mother. “You sound like I am traveling to the other side of the world.” She raised one dark eyebrow in exasperation, which her mother always thought made her look so much like her father.
Etain’s answering smile was sardonic. From the moment of each of their births, she had been devoted to her children. Even now that they were adults, she preferred that they stay near her. She honestly enjoyed their company and appreciated them for the individuals they were growing into.
El spoke slowly, willing her mother to really hear her words. “I don’t know why it upsets you so much that I’m going. It’s not like I’ve never been away from home. I studied at the Temple of the Muse and that didn’t seem to bother you.”
“That was different. Of course you had to study with the Muse. It’s where all the most spectacular females of Partholon are educated. Arianrhod is there now.” Etain’s smile was selfsatisfied. “Both of my daughters are spectacular, which is one reason I enjoy having you near me,” Etain said logically.
“If I had married, I might have moved to his home.” El’s voice had lost its frustrated edge and she just sounded exhausted.
“Don’t talk like you’ll never get married. You’re still young. You have years and years left.”
“Mama, please. Let’s not start this old argument again. You know no one will marry me. There’s no one like me, and no one who wants to get that close to a goddess.”
“Your father married me.”
El smiled sadly at her mother. “But you’re all human, Mama, and besides, the High Shaman of the centaurs is always mated to Epona’s Beloved. He was created to love you—it’s what is normal for him. It is obvious that the Goddess has touched me, but I am not Her Chosen. Epona has not prompted any centaur shaman to come forward as my mate. I don’t think anyone, man or centaur shaman, was created to love me. Not like you and Da.”
“Oh, Fawn!” Etain’s voice broke on the childhood nickname. “I don’t believe that. Epona is not cruel. There is someone for you. He just hasn’t found you yet.”
“Maybe. And maybe I have to go away to find him.”
“But why there? I don’t like to think about you being there.”
“It’s just a place, Mama. Actually it’s just an old ruin. I think it is past time that it was rebuilt. Remember the stories you used to tell me at bedtime? You said that once upon a time it was beautiful,” El coaxed.
“Yes, until it became home to slaughter and evil.”
“That was more than one hundred years ago. The evil is gone, and the dead can’t hurt me.”
“You can’t be sure about that,” her mother retorted.
“Mama,” El reached up and took her hand. “The MacCallan was my ancestor. Why would his ghost harm me?”
“There were more who died at the slaughter of MacCallan Castle than the Clan Chieftain and the noble warriors who gave their lives trying to protect him. And you know the castle is said to be cursed. No one has dared to enter its grounds, let alone live there, for over a century,” Etain said firmly.
“But all of my life you have watched over the MacCallan shrine and its ever-burning flame,” she countered. “We have kept alive the memory of The MacCallan, even though the clan was destroyed. Why should my wish to restore his castle surprise you? After all, his blood runs in my veins, too.”
Etain didn’t answer her immediately. For an instant she actually toyed with the thought of lying to her daughter, of saying that she had Goddess-given knowledge of the veracity of the castle’s curse. But only for an instant. Mother and daughter had a deep reservoir of trust as well as love between them, and Etain wasn’t willing to damage or take advantage of that—and she would never lie about knowledge given to her by Epona.
“I do not truly believe The MacCallan would harm you, though it is quite possible that restless spirits inhabit the old castle. And I admit that the curse is just a tale to frighten errant children. It’s not so much that I fear for your safety—it’s just that I don’t understand why you must go with the workers who will clear out the ruins. Why not wait until the mess has been cleaned away and they have rebuilt it so that it is actually habitable? Then you can oversee the final stages of construction.”
Elphame sighed fondly at her mother. The Chosen of Epona was used to living in luxury, surrounded by servants and handmaidens. It wasn’t possible for her to understand her daughter’s desire to get her hands dirty and live rough until the job was done.
“I need to be involved in every aspect of this. I’m going to rebuild MacCallan Castle, and I’m going to be mistress of it. As Lady of the Castle and of the surrounding lands I will have something of my own, something I’ve had a hand in creating. If I can’t have my own mate and my own children, then I can at least have my own kingdom. Please understand and give me your blessing, Mama.” Her eyes pleaded with her mother.
“I just want you to be happy, my precious Fawn.”
“This will make me happy. You have to trust me to know my own mind, Mama.”
You must let her go, my Beloved. The Goddess spoke the words gently within Etain’s mind, but still it felt as if the blade of a knife had passed through her soul. Trust her to find her own destiny, and trust me to care for her.
Etain closed her eyes, struggling against second thoughts and loss. With a deep breath she opened her eyes, and wiped the wetness from her cheeks.
“I do trust you. And you will always have my blessing.”
Elphame’s face was transformed, and the lines of worry that so often clouded it dissipated, leaving her looking heart-wrenchingly young.
“Thank you, Mama. I believe that I am fated to do this. Just wait until you see MacCallan Castle alive again.” She happily gave the silver mare’s neck an enthusiastic squeeze. “Let’s hurry back so I can finish packing. You know I’m supposed to leave at dawn tomorrow.”
Elphame chattered brightly as she kept pace easily with the mare and her mother. Etain made meaningful, attentivesounding noises, but she couldn’t stay focused on her daughter’s words. Instead it seemed that she already felt the weight of Elphame’s absence as if it were a black hole in her soul. And, even though the late spring evening was warm, a chill marked its finger down the back of Goddess Incarnate’s neck.
Chapter 2
“Cu, remind me why I agreed to let you come with me.” Elphame looked slantways at her brother and tried to increase her gait without being too obvious. He was singing what seemed like verse five hundred of a semi-raunchy military marching song and the never-ending chorus pounded through her right temple in time with her headache, almost making her wish she had not insisted that the two of them travel separate from the rest of their party.
The big buckskin gelding on which Cuchulainn rode automatically picked up his pace to match El’s long strides. Her brother’s infectious laugh rang around them. “I came, sister-mine, to protect you.”
Elphame gave an unlady-like snort. “Oh, please, spare me. Protect me? It’s more likely you needed a break from chasing the temple maidens hither and yon.”
“Hither and yon?” His handsome face broke into a boyish grin. “Did you really say hither and yon?” He shook his head in mock seriousness. “I knew you were spending too much time reading those tomes in mother’s library. And it’s not the maidens I’d be after.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his sister.
Elphame tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile as she gave him a fond look. “Next you’ll be reminding me that you don’t have to chase any woman anywhere.”
“Now that, sister-mine, is the simple truth…” He let the words trail off and grinned at her.
“Hmm, I thought you might be staying at home to welcome the…” Elphame cleared her throat and tossed back her hair, doing a perfect imitation of their mother’s tone of voice as well as her body language. “…lovely and unmarried daughter of the Chieftain of Woulff Castle who will be sojourning at Epona’s Temple on the way to begin her training at the Temple of the Muse.”
Cuchulainn’s mouth tightened, and for an instant Elphame regretted her teasing. Then, with his usual good humor he shrugged his shoulders and gave her a long-suffering grin.
“Her name is Beatrice, sister-mine. Can you image anyone named Beatrice not having a high forehead and regal carriage?” He spoke the words putting a simper in his deep voice, which made Elphame laugh out loud.
“She’s probably a very handsome woman,” El said through giggles.
“No doubt fertile, with ample hips and the ability to bear many children.”
Brother and sister exchanged looks of complete understanding.
“I’ll be glad when Arianrhod and Finegas are old enough for Mama to start matchmaking for them.” El said in a tone that sounded more serious than she had intended.
Cuchulainn sighed heavily. “The twins will be eighteen this summer. In three more years Mother will be in her matchmaking glory.”
El slanted a look at Cu. “Poor kids. It almost makes me wish we hadn’t picked on them so much when we were children.”
“Almost!” Cuchulainn laughed. “At least we’re all in this together—it’s not like Mother singles out one of us.”
Elphame just smiled at him and quickened the pace again, forcing herself temporarily ahead of her brother on the narrowing trail. But it’s not the same for me. Thoughts whirred incessantly through her restless mind. Her siblings were humans—attractive, talented, sought-after humans. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to picture Cuchulainn. His face was as familiar to her as her own—and very like her own. She smiled wryly. Cu was just a year and a half younger, and from the waist up they, too, could be twins. He had her high, well-defined cheekbones, but where hers were delicate and feminine, his were ruggedly masculine. Her chin was (according to their mother) rather defiant, and his was stubborn and proud (according to his eldest sister), complete with an adorable cleft. Instead of his sister’s sable eyes and dark auburn tresses, he had eyes that were a unique color shaded somewhere between blue and green, and thick, sandycolored hair that refused to give up its childish cowlicks. So he kept it slicked back and cropped short, which made their mother cluck and complain over the waste of not letting it grow like a proper warrior’s.
But Cuchulainn, son of Midhir, High Shaman and Centaur Warrior Lord, did not have to be a “proper warrior.” Named after one of Partholon’s ancient heroes, he already looked and acted the part, whether he always behaved properly or not. Tall and well-formed, he excelled at tournaments, was the finest human swordsman in Partholon and had never been bested in archery. Elphame had heard more than one young maiden sigh longingly and say that he must indeed be Cuchulainn reincarnated.
No, Cu had never lacked for female companionship. He had just not yet found his lifemate. Elphame’s shapely lips tilted up. “But not for lack of trying,” she muttered to herself.
That was one way she was very unlike her brother. He was suave and experienced with the opposite sex. She had never been kissed.
Even her youngest siblings, whom she and Cu had nicknamed the Little Scholars, had no trouble finding partners for moon rituals. While Arianrhod and Finegas weren’t as athletic as their older brother and sister, they were certainly growing into intelligent, poised young adults. Looking almost like mirror images of each other, their tall, graceful bodies were completely human—totally normal. And, Elphame admitted to herself, Arianrhod was as pretty as Fin was handsome.
The path that cut through the ancient forest curved to the right and widened. Cuchulainn urged his gelding to his sister’s side.
“She reminds me of Mama,” El said suddenly.
Cu looked around in surprise. “Who?”
El rolled her eyes. She always expected her brother to read her mind, and was annoyed the few times he didn’t. “Arianrhod, who else? That’s why the boys already moon over her. Of course it’s not like she cares or even notices—not unless she’s completely changed during her first term at the Temple of the Muse.”
Her brother’s turquoise eyes crinkled with his smile. “Arianrhod’s head will always be in the clouds.”
“Astronomy and astrology are inexorably linked to the Fates, and as such it is wise to study them carefully.” El mimicked their younger sister.
Cu laughed. “That’s one of our Little Scholars, all right. The irony is that young, besotted men will chase her all the harder because of her indifference. You see the maidens are already starting to follow Fin around, and his beard is still like duck’s down.”
“Well, for whatever reason they certainly like her a lot.”
Cuchulainn looked closely at his sister. “Are you all right?”
“Of course,” she answered automatically without meeting his eyes.
“It will be different here, Fawn,” he said quietly.
“I know.” She glanced quickly over at him, and then just as quickly looked away, afraid that he would see the tears that were beginning to make her eyes too bright.
