Free The Rings of Poseidon by Mike Crowson

provided they were left
alone.
    At last we came to a group of houses, wooden
and above ground, surrounded by a circular ditch and bank, with
entrances at either end. I remember I didn't think the ditch and
the bank would do much to stop an intruder and guessed, more or
less correctly, that the bank marked a boundary as much as
anything. If I hadn't spent three weeks camping I would have been
nervous of sleeping in a house built above ground but, as it was, I
had no qualms.
    There were several girls about my age, all
training to be priestesses, as well as some older girls, further
along the path of the goddess, and we all had our duties in the
house. Of course we had to keep ourselves clean and groomed - we
had to look our best for the Goddess - and we had to take turns at
keeping the house tidy. Besides that we had weaving and spinning to
do, as well as our studies of the stars and the herbs. I soon
settled into a comfortable routine, for life was even and regular
in the village. I quickly discovered that it was a temple. The
actual temple building was the largest one of the group, and there
were some twenty-five or so altogether with the various trainees
and the active priestesses and the one or two old women. There were
no men or boys living in the compound, but it was not forbidden to
speak or mix with those outside if we had any spare time.
    I think I was probably a good-looking child,
small with long dark hair and an oval shaped face. It took me quite
a time to braid my hair each morning, combing it out and then
putting it in a single broad plait that hung down to my waist. I
was certainly a bright child, learning to spin and weave with some
dexterity, but also learning about life to an extent far beyond my
years. I soon understood why the priestesses must keep their
virginity for the fertility rites at Beltane each year. I don't
know whether I fully appreciated the finer points which make it an
enjoyable experience, but I certainly knew more about the basics
than I should have done and, of course, accepted it.
    At Beltane, in two or three villages chosen
for that year, one of the priestesses and one of the men of that
village, chosen by ballot, mated. The prayers to the Goddess were
said over the fields and the animals. Afterwards the Beltane fires
were lit and the whole village took part in the fertility rites. At
the high temple, which was the holiest of places, one of the
younger priestesses, a virgin vowed to the Goddess, led the mating
and the fertility rites each year.
    I saw little of Nerfin after the journey and
the first few weeks. The house was ruled over by an older woman and
my own particular friend, a dark-looking girl about a year older
than me, was called Eyebright after the herb because, as the name
suggests, she was a bright-eyed little thing. I don't remember her
true name after all these years: perhaps I never knew it.
    I grew up in the house from a little girl to
a young woman. I would have been about twelve when the decision was
made to build a new temple. A spot was chosen in the middle of a
grassy plain about a day's ride away from the place we had used
from time out of mind. The area was farmed, I think, but there was
to be a circular ditch with the earth piled up inside, much as the
present site but bigger. There would be two entrances and a
circular temple, with a circular veranda with a circle of stones
marking the position of the sun's and moon's risings and settings
at different times of year, so that we would know exactly when
midsummer and midwinter were.
    One day, just before the work started, the
old woman in charge of the house came up to me and said that the
High Priestess required my presence in the temple. When I walked
into the temple she was talking to Nerfin so I stood in silence
until she had done. She turned her attention to me, studying me
carefully. She told me at length, "You have been chosen for the
blessing at the start of work on the new temple."
    I knew, of course, what