107. Priestess

The Shark King, via a formal letter in a haphazard scrawl and messy seal, as well as in person, asked me to be the archpriestess of Mother Earth.

Hazel refused my suggestion that it should rightfully be her or one of the other more experienced earth priests, but they all, and the acolytes and scribes, advocated for my not only being ordained a priestess, but as archpriestess.

Apparently, earth Tintarians and those who worshipped that goddess also called for my ordainment and induction.

I weighed this decision, asking Alric what he thought, only to be met with him asking me what I wanted.

Hazel pointed out that the four archpriest chambers were all spacious and had private bathing rooms.

This had no value to me.

If I lay my head down next to my husband, I lived as a queen.

In the end, I spoke with my goddess.

Once I had healed enough to return to my room with Alric and I began to learn how to live with one hand, she told me we could no longer speak.

She worried her speaking directly to me would again awaken the fates to my presence, alerting them that I could be used to shape the world.

But you will see me in every blossom, every sprout, every twig.

I am the spark in the wolf’s eye as it hunts.

I am the spring in the deer’s step as it runs.

I am all around you and I love you.

“And what would you have me do?”

I asked.

“If I am not to be guided by you, how can I lead the entire order of your faith? I feel unequipped for this.

How can I do it?”

Because, you are yourself.

You are here, sitting in this temple, the city outside flying your flags, all the souls in it still living.

You are here, in Tintar, separated by a moon of travel from your home country.

You are worse for your wear and better for your bravery.

Age looks good on you, girl.

You wear it well.

Now what is next? Every road has a bend in it.

If you are lucky, your road bends many times.

This is a bend.

Do you see it?

I recruited Hazel in particular and the rest of the staff in general to assist me in taking this mantle.

I asked them to be honest with me, as I had asked the other scribes to be honest with me when I became head scribe.

I warned them that I had not even practiced as an earth Tintarian for a full four seasons.

I even asked them if any of them wanted this position for themselves.

None stepped forward.

I was ordained as a priestess and inducted as the archpriestess of Mother Earth on the morning of the rest day the week before The Rush of Flowers, done in time by my request for me to marry Quinn and River.

Cian’s slain body had been thrown into the sea by a raving Hinnom and so a new archpriest robe was made for me by several women of Pikestully.

Zinnia and Beryl organized the creation of it.

It was cut from a sage green fabric, the left arm constructed as a sling instead of a regular sleeve.

I was able to step into it, if it hung from the collar on a hook, left side first, resting my left arm into the sling and my right hand and arm into the right sleeve.

Different women embroidered different designs into it.

Using threads of gold, bronze, green and brown, they told the story of Tintar’s guardians in the sea.

Living representations of all five drakes were worked onto the back and the rest of the robe was covered in vines and ferns and roots to honor Mother Earth.

I was overcome when I first saw it and it was the finest thing I would ever wear.

Traditionally, priests are ordained in private, a small ceremony in front of fellow temple staff and their immediate family.

But archpriests are inducted like a coronation, with open temple doors and the antechambers cleared of desks for any overflow crowds.

My archpriestess ceremony was witnessed by a happy throng of Pikestullians, some standing if they could not find a seat in the temple, that spilled out onto the plateau and into the city.

The celebrations afterward went on until the morning.

I stood on the dais, at the altar, in front of my goddess’s wooden face, in my grand robe, next to Yro, Bamber and Thalia.

Our king and prince were there as well.

I was nervous with so many eyes on me.

The new archpriest is meant to slice their left palm over a silver bowl and receive blessings from the other three archpriests and then a benediction from the king.

As I had no left hand, Alric stood behind me, cradling my right palm and reached around me with his left hand to draw the knife across it.

My hand’s blood dripped over the bowl as my husband whispered in my left ear, “from my pillory to my priestess.”

During my first council in the throne room, I sat at the archpriests’ stone table next to Thalia with Yro and Bamber and she turned to me, saying, “It is such a treat to have another woman up here.

Keturah’s successor was another man, the archpriest before Cian.

I never got to serve alongside her.”

“I will need your advice in this role,”

I said, eyes on the lords of Tintar sitting before us in their benches, ready to bring issues to the king and his council.

She shrugged.

“Do not put your pride in front of the cause,”

she answered.

“That is my only advice.

But you won’t.

Doubtless, you will need reminding that there is a woman in that robe, not a workhorse.

Even workhorses need watering.”

Do not put your pride in front of the cause.

Those words changed my mind about marrying Quinn and River.

Thalia had created a haven for people like my friends, keeping them safe and employed for tens of winters.

I asked my friends if they would let her have the honor of marrying the first couple like them in Tintar.

They agreed, but asked me to give a reading.

I read a love poem from one of the books Alric had bought for us.

I stood in the temple of Sister Sea next to the Thalia, the seashell mermaid statue behind us, smiling at the two of them, thinking how far in life Quinn had come from the hell that is a Perpatanian prison to marrying her lover out in the open.

I watched Thalia, features strained in prevention of tears, as she asked the brides to repeat their vows after her.

After the last word, an eruption of abalone blossoms shot into the air over all of our heads, the baskets filled and hidden under the pews by the rest of the Eccleston ‘priestesses.’ They were tossed into the air by the couple’s friends, both Ecclestonian and Tintarian and by the entirety of the sea temple staff.

River burst out laughing at this surprise and Quinn, confused at first, joined her, laughing even longer.

The petals, their shade the color of robin’s eggshells, fluttered prettily around us and my eyes found Alric in the pews.

Spring sunshine streamed through the sea temple’s windows onto his face and he smiled at me.

What a life I had, what joy, what gaiety.

I have bestowed much wonder on you, girl.

You are rich with it.

I did officiate a marriage later on that fall.

Thatcher and Helena had a daughter in summer, and they stood in the temple of Mother Earth before me, saying those vows.

Maureen stood next to them, holding her little sister and my niece, whom they had named Agnes Edith.