And to believe, Derfel, you must devote your life to it." She was speaking with a rare and intense passion now. "Every minute of every day and every moment of every night you must be open to the Gods, and if you are, then they will come. Not always when you want them, of course, but if you never ask, they'll never answer; but when they do answer, Derfel, oh, when they do, it is so wonderful and so terrifying, like having wings that lift you high into glory." Her eyes shone as she spoke. I had never heard her speak of these things. Not long ago she had been a child, but now she had been to Merlin's bed and taken on his teaching and his power, and I resented that. I was jealous and angry and I did not understand. She was growing away from me and I could do nothing to stop it.
"I'm open to the Gods," I said resentfully. "I believe them. I want their help."
She touched my face with her bandaged hand. "You're going to be a warrior, Derfel, and a very great one. You're a good person, you're honest, you're as foursquare as Merlin's Tower and there isn't any madness in you. Not a trace; not even a wild, desperate speck. Do you think I want to follow Merlin?"
"Yes," I said, hurt. "I know you do!" I meant, of course, that I was hurt because she would not devote herself to me.
She took in a deep breath and stared into the shadowed roof where two pigeons had flown through a smoke hole and were now shuffling along a rafter. "Sometimes," she said, "I think I would like to marry, have children, watch them grow, grow old myself, die, but of all those things, Derfel' she looked at me again "I will only have the last. I can't bear to think of what will happen to me. I can't bear to think of enduring the Three Wounds of Wisdom, but I must. I must!"
"The Three Wounds?" I asked, never having heard of them before.
"The Wound to the Body," Nimue explained, 'the Wound to the Pride," and here she touched herself between her legs, 'and the
Wound to the Mind, which is madness." She paused as a look of horror crossed her face. "Merlin has suffered all three, and that is why he's such a wise man. Morgan had the worst Wound to the Body that anyone can imagine, but she never suffered the other two wounds which is why she will never truly belong to the Gods. I've suffered none of the three, but I will. I must!" She spoke fiercely. "I must because I was chosen."
"Why wasn't I chosen?" I asked.
She shook her head. "You don't understand, Derfel. No one chose me, except me. You have to make the choice for yourself. It could happen to any of us here. That's why Merlin collects foundlings, because he believes orphaned children might have special powers, but only a very few do."
"And you do," I said.
"I see the Gods everywhere," Nimue said simply. "They see me."
"I've never seen a God," I said stubbornly.
She smiled at my resentment. "You will," she said, 'because you must think of Britain, Derfel, as though she were laced with the ribbons of a thinning mist. Just tenuous strands here and there, drifting and fading, but those strands are the Gods, and if we can find them and please them and make this land theirs again then the strands will thicken and join to make a great, wonderful mist that will cover all the land and protect us from what lies outside. That's why we live here, on the Tor. Merlin know that the Gods love this place, and here the sacred mist is thick, but our task is to spread it."
"Is that what Merlin is doing?"
She smiled. "Right at this moment, Derfel, Merlin is sleeping. And I must too. Haven't you work to do?"
"Rents to count," I said awkwardly. The lower storehouses were filling with smoked fish, smoked eels, jars of salt, willow baskets, woven cloth, pigs of lead, tubs of charcoal, even some rare scraps of amber and jet: the winter rents payable at Beltain which Hywel had to assay, record on tallies, then divide into
"I'm open to the Gods," I said resentfully. "I believe them. I want their help."
She touched my face with her bandaged hand. "You're going to be a warrior, Derfel, and a very great one. You're a good person, you're honest, you're as foursquare as Merlin's Tower and there isn't any madness in you. Not a trace; not even a wild, desperate speck. Do you think I want to follow Merlin?"
"Yes," I said, hurt. "I know you do!" I meant, of course, that I was hurt because she would not devote herself to me.
She took in a deep breath and stared into the shadowed roof where two pigeons had flown through a smoke hole and were now shuffling along a rafter. "Sometimes," she said, "I think I would like to marry, have children, watch them grow, grow old myself, die, but of all those things, Derfel' she looked at me again "I will only have the last. I can't bear to think of what will happen to me. I can't bear to think of enduring the Three Wounds of Wisdom, but I must. I must!"
"The Three Wounds?" I asked, never having heard of them before.
"The Wound to the Body," Nimue explained, 'the Wound to the Pride," and here she touched herself between her legs, 'and the
Wound to the Mind, which is madness." She paused as a look of horror crossed her face. "Merlin has suffered all three, and that is why he's such a wise man. Morgan had the worst Wound to the Body that anyone can imagine, but she never suffered the other two wounds which is why she will never truly belong to the Gods. I've suffered none of the three, but I will. I must!" She spoke fiercely. "I must because I was chosen."
"Why wasn't I chosen?" I asked.
She shook her head. "You don't understand, Derfel. No one chose me, except me. You have to make the choice for yourself. It could happen to any of us here. That's why Merlin collects foundlings, because he believes orphaned children might have special powers, but only a very few do."
"And you do," I said.
"I see the Gods everywhere," Nimue said simply. "They see me."
"I've never seen a God," I said stubbornly.
She smiled at my resentment. "You will," she said, 'because you must think of Britain, Derfel, as though she were laced with the ribbons of a thinning mist. Just tenuous strands here and there, drifting and fading, but those strands are the Gods, and if we can find them and please them and make this land theirs again then the strands will thicken and join to make a great, wonderful mist that will cover all the land and protect us from what lies outside. That's why we live here, on the Tor. Merlin know that the Gods love this place, and here the sacred mist is thick, but our task is to spread it."
"Is that what Merlin is doing?"
She smiled. "Right at this moment, Derfel, Merlin is sleeping. And I must too. Haven't you work to do?"
"Rents to count," I said awkwardly. The lower storehouses were filling with smoked fish, smoked eels, jars of salt, willow baskets, woven cloth, pigs of lead, tubs of charcoal, even some rare scraps of amber and jet: the winter rents payable at Beltain which Hywel had to assay, record on tallies, then divide into
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