Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [178]
"I, Morwen of the Maghuin Dhonn, do swear this oath," she said, her voice clear and carrying. "No harm will befall Imriel de la Courcel of Clunderry this night, nor any member of his household, nor any person dear to him. I swear it by stone and sea and sky, by all the gods of Alba, and by the diadh-anam of the Maghuin Dhonn. If I lie, let my magic be broken and my life be forfeit. Let every man and woman's hand be raised against me, let my name be gall on their lips. Let the gods and the diadh-anam forsake me, and let the land itself despise my footfall. Let my spirit wander for ten thousand years without solace.”
The earth seemed to shudder beneath the soles of my boots. A slight breeze made the torches ripple, and I saw Urist nod with grim satisfaction. It was a powerful oath.
Morwen lowered her arms. "It is done.”
"It is," Firdha said.
They returned slowly to the outer edge of the stone circle. The ollamh's face was grave. Morwen's brown skin looked more pale than usual, the claw tattoos standing out like dark slashes around her eyes. "Does it suffice?" she asked me.
I clenched my hot, itching hands into fists. "Let us do this thing, lady.”
So it began.
I unsheathed my sword and drew my daggers from their scabbards, giving my weapons into Urist's keeping. I unbuckled the vambraces with their chased images of the Black Boar that Dorelei had placed on my arms with loving care. I checked the bindings beneath them.
"Take off your boots," Morwen said softly. "Your feet must touch the earth.”
I obeyed. "Thus do we worship Elua, too.”
"Truly?" Her brows furrowed. "I did not know.”
"Mayhap there is much we might learn of one another," I said. "Is that all?”
"Yes." She reached out her hand. "Come with me.”
I took her hand and went.
The grass was cool beneath my feet, damp with dew. Morwen's touch was light and careful, though it almost seemed her fingers trembled. Urist and his lads spread out to position themselves around the perimeter of the standing stones, torches bobbing like fireflies. Firdha stayed behind. She, too, would keep watch in her own way. When Urist's men were in place, he gave a signal and the torches were snuffed.
Beside the center boulder, Morwen let go my hand and bowed her head. "Here.”
"What must I do?" I asked.
"Wait." Beneath the stars and the bright moon, she stooped for a third time, digging her fingers into the earth surrounding the boulder, an object too large and heavy for five strong men to move. There was a scraping sound. Her shape changed, surging and rippling. I heard her groan. The boulder shifted in its deep mooring, and my mouth went dry.
It rose. A solid slab of stone, lichen-stained and half buried. Morwen's hand—or something like it—shot out and reached into the hollow beneath the boulder, snatching at a hidden bundle and removing it.
The boulder settled back into place.
Morwen laughed, low and sad. She straightened and covered her eyes. Fingers or claws? I blinked, unsure. Fingers. She lowered them. "Sit," she said. "Sit and be welcome.”
I sat. Morwen sat opposite me and placed her bundle atop the boulder, unrolling it. There was a wineskin, a stoppered jar, a wooden cup, a leather bag, and a knife of chipped stone. She unplugged the wineskin and poured a measure of dark liquid into the wooden cup, showing it to me. "I will drink first.”
I watched her drink, watched the muscles of her throat move. When she had finished, she poured a second measure and handed me the cup. I sniffed at it. It smelled earthy and bitter and foul. "What is it?”
"Mushroom tea." Her pale gaze held steady. "A gift of the earth, Imriel.”
I lifted the cup toward the stars. "Blessed Elua, hold and keep me," I said, and drank. It tasted like it smelled. I gagged, but I managed to swallow it, setting down the wooden cup.
"Well done." Morwen unstoppered the jar and daubed unguent on her fingers, closing her eyes and smearing it onto her