Free The Way of Wyrd by Brian Bates Page B

sternly. ‘A woman will draw the life-energy from you and sap your strength. You are absolutely right to be so careful.’
    I looked at him in surprise. His face, inches from mine, was creased with concern and sincerity. I had erroneously believed that he was going to mock my lack of sexual experience, but now he sounded exactly like Eappa, warning of the temptations of the flesh. It was all the more remarkable in that I had been told that pagan practitioners of sorcery used their status to indulge in disgraceful sexual licence.
    ‘Does this mean that, like the brethren of my faith, you do not lie with women? That you were joking about the Water Goddess?’
    Suddenly Wulf’s demeanour changed and he looked down at the ground, shuffling about nervously. With horror I realized that I had embarrassed him and had risen half-way to my feet to apologize when I saw a sly smile spread across his face. I was caught between sitting and standing when he exploded into laughter.
    I sat down and glared at him, feeling utterly ridiculous. He had led me to commit myself on a matter of considerable personal sensitivity and I thought him crass and inconsiderate in the extreme.
    Still chuckling, Wulf crouched by my side and put an arm around my shoulders.
    ‘Do not worry!’ he chuckled. ‘If you are going to encounter Water Goddess, I shall give you advance warning so that you may seek forgiveness from your god.’
    I turned towards him to retort angrily: he was struggling to control his mirth but as I looked into his eyes, I felt a wave of warmth from him, even affection. I laughed nervously.
    ‘We are taught to stay away from the pleasures of the flesh,’ I said ruefully.
    He nodded gently, still with an arm around me. ‘Life-force pulses from Mother Earth when she is kissed by the Spring Sun and so it is between man and woman. Sexual love is essential for a free flow of life-force. Just as frost and fire create the worlds, so man and woman create life.’
    Wulf clapped me on the back and stood up. ‘But we shall worry about Water Goddess another time. Enough about your neck—it is time to hunt.’
    We gathered together our things and Wulf led the way into the forest. Our path snaked northwards through miles of dense forest, Wulf tracking animal paths barely visible in the thick undergrowth and moving with the superb agility of a deer. Above the tree cover the sky was a haze of high cloud and in air warm and moist as steam, my clothes clung to me in sticky streaks. I was soon hampered not only by my lack of forest walking experience but also by the nagging pain in my ankle; resting had not healed it and each step brought with it the awful memory of the horse-head dream.
    Eventually we followed a stream bank into a shallow ravine, until the path narrowed to a mere strip of chalky footholds barely covered by tufts of dry grass. The western face of the ravine towered above us to our left and Wulf stopped to point out a switchback route up the steep face of the hill. He climbed swiftly and I scrambled after him, clawing for footholds which frequently broke away under my weight. At last I pulled myself on to the grassy plateau at the top and stretched out on the ground beside Wulf, gulping air into my burning lungs. When I sat up, I realized how high we had climbed. On the northern horizon, rising above the tree line, I could see the tips of distant hills reaching towards a huge sky and as I watched, the high clouds pulled apart to admit glimmers of weak, pale, yellow sunlight.
    After a short rest, Wulf led the way across the thickly turfed plateau. He walked slowly, apparently scanning the grass, until he stopped abruptly. In front of us a scattering of yellow flowers barely peeped above the grass, blowing in the wind. I had never before seen such plants.
    ‘What are they called?’ I asked tentatively, afraid to interrupt the intense concentration with which Wulf was surveying the flowers.
    He bent down on one knee and plucked a sprig