The Rings of Poseidon by Mike Crowson Page B

and wear the sacred ring at no more than eighteen
summers. Why I sent the ring elsewhere ten summers ago is another
story and I have not told it before. The ring. What is a ring? A
thin hollow circle you slide onto your finger. Precious. I have
seen no other one. One of the oldest women took it from Nerfin's
body and gave it to me, saying that Nerfin had received it from the
last high priestess. Many summers passed and I often wondered about
the thinness and lightness of it. How had the craftsman worked the
stone so thin? What stone was it, hard and light like that? As the
years went by those who had known Nerfin and the old high priestess
died and I did not speak of the ring. Young women came to the
service and this ornament was forgotten.
    Then one winter day a traveller came by. It
was snowing hard and blowing half a gale and he was both cold and
lost. It was only human charity to let him rest his horse and offer
him food and shelter. I entertained him at the temple as was
proper. As we sat and ate and drank he watched the ring closely and
asked endless questions about it - how I had come by it, whence it
had come and so on. It was clear that he did not believe that I
knew nothing of its history and cared less.
    It was full dark and I was sleeping when I
heard the slightest noise of footsteps and woke to see a shadowy
figure take something from my table. "Who's there?" I called, and
the figure ran. I heard a door slam. I hurried to the door myself.
It was very cold but it had stopped snowing and by the light of the
rising moon I saw a trail of footprints leading to the stable. As I
stood there I saw the traveller leading out his pony. I don't know
why, but as he mounted I bent down and gathered up some snow into a
ball and threw it. As he swung up onto the pony, the snow caught
him full in the face and he slipped backwards. The pony bolted and
he bounced along behind it on the ground.
    In the morning, when we found him, I looked
through his leather bag and found the ring. I do not know what
attraction it had for him, but I resolved to have no more to do
with it. I had not meant to kill the traveller. The ring seemed
evil somehow.
    When Spring softened the weather again I had
a copy of the amulet's design carved on a holy stone from the
seashore and then put both the ring and the amulet in a leather
bag. A woman was going as priestess to a village in the far north.
I gave the bag to her and she left with her escort. I gave the ring
no further thought, 'till now.
    Now I have seen at least forty-five summers.
It may be forty-eight or even fifty, I'm not sure. But I have worn
the ring and sent it north. This safe amulet on a holy stone I will
pass to a successor soon. I have ruled this temple for at least
twenty-five summers, and held the office of high priestess longer
than anyone else that can be remembered. All of my contemporaries
have died and I shall not be sorry now when my time is up. Faya is
priestess to a thriving village a week's ride from here, so I see
her but little now. She lives with a good man and I have two
grandchildren. Probably she will ride over to see me in the Spring
if I live 'till then. Still, the will of the Goddess be done, as
ever.
     
     
     

Chapter 8
     
    "Well?" Steve asked at length, "What did you
make of that?"
    The question was directed mainly at Frank,
who replied carefully, thinking about his words.
    "I'd say 'experience' was a good word to
describe it. Nice and neutral and non-committal. I thought it was
Gill's story not yours though."
    "Oh it was. A completely different
'experience' from last time, for me anyway."
    "And for me!" echoed a bemused Gill
faintly.
    "That's because you were wearing the ring not
Steve." Manjy was wide eyed with a combination of awe, surprise and
a little fear. "I told you it was reincarnation and that the ring
was responsible," she continued, "and I'm sure it is, even if I
can't tell you how."
    "Well the story was interesting and
believable, but I can't see how