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"Antlered one, belling one, you of the sweet-tongued cry, we love to hear Your song in the glen," Nigel murmured, surprising her for a moment.
The High Priestesses and High Priests waited for them there, robed, crowned with the Moon or masked with the muzzle and stag antlers of Cer-nu
Behind them scores of friends waited on the meadow and around the pool, Sam Aylward with his arm in its sling, looking on with pride-and relief, she thought, that he wasn't wearing the stag-mask: even Eric Larsson and his Lu-a
Children raced around, or stood importantly holding their pieces of the ceremony, her own Rudi among them, and his friend Mathilda standing back looking envious. Adults passed canvas chagals of wine from hand to hand-it was Mabon, wine-harvest, after all, and there was an occasional shout of "lo, lo, lo, evoii!"
She took one and squirted a mouthful in a single stream past her lips, tasting the blood of Earth, wild and strong; then she passed it on and threw her arms around Nigel for a long, lingering kiss, ignoring the whooping and cheers and bawdy good wishes shouted in the background, for those were also luck-bringing.
The great circle of oaks stood ready, rough-barked columns thicker than her body and a hundred feet tall, the tattered late-season lushness of their leaves making an arch around the Circle itself, streaked with old-gold yellow as they caught the setting sun high above. Today they were draped and joined with ropes of garden blossoms and great wreaths at the Quarters as well. The same light glinted on the spring-fed pool beside the nemed and the place water tinkled downward over rocks, glowed on the nodding flowers of the alpine laurel that grew thick around it, deep pink bowls above the low matted leaves.
Juniper gave Nigel's hand a final squeeze. Then she caught her daughter's, and she her anamchara Astrid's, until all the women were linked. The music grew wilder, and they danced out to the spring, the laughing crowd giving way before them and following in their wake as they coiled around the waters with feet skipping on the soft, dense turf amid a chime of silver bells, their unbound hair tossing beneath the flower-wreaths. Juniper lifted her strong soprano in a high wordless note for an instant, and then they sang together as they danced:
"Sister of Waters
Daughter of Light
Dreamweaver, spelldancer
On scented air
Teach me Your magic
That I may this night
Make love like fine music
Both glorious and rare-"
Then solemn quiet fell, as Judy cast the Circle and admitted the celebrants: "I conjure you, O Circle of Power-"
Salt and water and incense smoke and steel, and the crackling of fire in the central hearth of the nemed. The other pairs of High Priest and Priestess stood at the Quarters, and the ritual went forward.
"-as in the Begi
Juniper took up the torque, and Nigel bowed his head as she spoke and placed it around his neck. "As symbol of my love, I give you this token. I will comfort and honor you in all our days."
He was smiling as he rose and took the torque he'd made for her in his hands; smiling more deeply with his eyes than his lips.
"As a symbol of my love, I give you this token. I will honor and protect you in all our days."
They each took a taper and lit the offered candle, and faced the altar as the High Priestess brought the ribbons from the cauldron. Her face was still graven with sadness, but there was happiness there as well when she met her friend's eyes.
I wish Aoife could be here too, and her Liath, Juniper thought, and knew the thought shared. They were brave and glorious and full of life and love. But they're together in the Summerlands, and we'll see them again, even if we call them by different names.
Judy bound the ribbons about their crossed wrists.
"Ribbon of white, for the Maiden and the Son; new life and begi
"I can," Juniper murmured softly, and turned her hand within the loose circle of the ribbons.
Nigel's fingers gripped hers, and his voice was firm as he answered: "I can."
Judy removed the ribbons and placed them on the altar knotted together. Then she lifted the chalice and cried: "By the Lord and the Lady, I call down blessing on these two. As the Lord and Lady join in the Sacred Marriage from which springs all creation, so are they joined. By the power of the Goddess, as Her priestess, I decree it. Blessed be!"
The antlered man joined her, hands touching on the chalice. "By the Lady and the Lord, I call down blessing on these two. By the Chalice and the Blade, they are joined. By the power of the God, as His priest, I decree it. Blessed be!"
As the pair drank, Judy laid a broom on the ground before the altar, the rough twig besom scratching on the flagstones. "Over the broom and into new life!"
They joined hands and leapt over it; then Nigel gave a shout of laughter and caught her up as if she were weightless, twirling her around and bearing her away to the side where they'd wait while the others came before the altar. When he put her down again she sank forward with her head against his shoulder, feeling the strength of the arm around her shoulders, the scent of flowers and wool and faint, clean male musk.
Nigel shifted, and she opened her eyes. Rudi was there, looking up at her with that heartbreaker grin. Then he turned it on her husband, and said quietly: "Can I call you Dad now? I never had a dad, not really. Uncles aren't the same. But you're the one I'd pick to be father."
"Yes, son, you can."
"Good. See you later, Mom, Dad!"
He slipped away, and Nigel's eyes twinkled at her. Juniper watched the others approach the altar, waiting quietly content. At last Chuck stood forth and called to them all:
"Rejoice, beloved! The God and the Goddess are honored in all celebrations of joy and love. This ceremony is accomplished-so mote it be!"
"Always," Juniper murmured, turning to look into Nigel's blue eyes; they blinked back at her in their nest of fine wrinkles.
"Always, my dear. While the Gods allow."
People were filing forward to light the torches that would guide them home; sunset was an arch of crimson and hot gold in the west.
She looked up sharply at the ahhhhs that ran around the Circle. A raven came out of the western light, first a dot and then a wingspan wider than she'd ever seen in that breed.
It circled over their heads and landed on the altar itself, and shocked silence descended, a silence so complete that breathing was the loudest sound under the fire-crackle, and she could hear the rustle of its feathers, and the scritching of its claws; one set of talons on the stone, the other on the hilt of the ritual sword. Rudi was there, and he sank to his knees before the altar.
A whisper of sound went through her: her own voice, near ten years gone. "And in the Craft, I name you Artos."