Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter XIV - Epona

*Arianrhod — the Celtic Goddess of fertility, rebirth and the weaving of cosmic time and fate. The Moon-Mother goddess who is often depicted as an owl.*

When Epona reached Ívarr's homestead it was to see Elfa feeding her chickens and Eirik twisting a bowstring beside his father as Ívarr shaped an elm bow shaft. The boy looked up and smiled diffidently at Epona as she entered the hall, but his father continued to ignore her after glancing up only briefly, too intent on his task to be much bothered by the arrival of one of Aila's slaves. Elfa's countenance, on the other hand, soured noticeably when Epona passed her, the elder's hostility as tangible as the black frost that clung to the hardened ground.

Once her eyes had adjusted to the darkened, windowless interior, Epona settled her perturbed gaze on Aila who was standing at the loom, humming distractedly. Although she was appeased by the sight of her, she hemmed her fretful displeasure at having hitherto been so worried, yet Aila seemed too oblivious to notice the sound. Did she not know that there were demoniac wolves about! She had no business galavanting about the countryside in the dark! With a determined gait, Epona marched over to her friend.

"Where did you go last night?" Epona had not meant to sound so despotic, she did after all occupy the lowest tier of rank in their society, but she had been far too anxious to ease the anger from her voice.

"Why do you ask?" Aila, with her usual phlegmatic calm, seemed to find amusement in her slave's harsh manner.

"I worry about you!" She could not keep the exasperation from her tone. "You are the only one I care about, so take a little care with your own safety!" Epona felt the babe move suddenly — only the slight flutter of a hummingbird wing ere it was gone — and smiled tenuously before she added, "You and Brenna are my only family now."

"I would rather you didn't take the trouble of worrying." Aila was becoming impatient, she could see that, but did not care.

"Where were you?" And then, strangely, she conceived the answer with a terrible, coiling certainty. "You were with him, weren't you?"

The answers to Epona's questions, such as they were, did not always make themselves known to her — her gifts were not hers to command or control. However, when she did perceive knowledge, whether abstract or obscure, she felt it coalesce in the pit of her stomach first before reifying. It was her choice whether or not she accepted or declaimed it. Epona knew, with certitude, that Aila had been inveigled somehow by Arawn. Why else had he been traipsing nearby so often?

"Who?" Aila had, by now, turned and folded her arms irritably, visibly wearied by Epona's importunity.

"The dark one," she hissed in answer. "The daemon." The god of death; the king of the underworld.

"If you think for even a moment that I am answerable to you-"

"By the gods!" Epona's horrified gaze fixed themselves abruptly onto Aila's abdomen. "I don't understand..." There was an awful quaking that seemed to inhibit her power of speech as she pointed a finger to the pulsating, dun-like hues at Aila's midriff.

"Verily, Epona, you are scaring me!"

As her mistress backed away, Epona advanced, the better to watch the bizarre, grey mass swirling at her center. It throbbed as though mimicking an odd sort of heartbeat where only yesterday a stygian void had syphoned from her life-force. There was no color there, or at least unlike anything she was used to seeing. Black, grey, silver and flecks of white seemed to contract and expand in swift movements like a dark flower opening and closing in rapid succession.