“There is only one journey,” [the lady] said, “that all men make. They go forth from the Mother, and do what men are born to do, till she stretches forth her hand, and calls them home.”

Plainly this land was of the old religion. Touching my brow in respect, I said, “We are all her children.”

“But some,” she said, “are called to a higher destiny. As you are, stranger, who come here fulfilling the omens, on the day when the King must die.”

Now I understood. But I would not show it. My wits were stunned and I needed time.

“High Lady,” I said, “if your lord’s sign calls him, what has that to do with me? … if he needs me to serve his death, he will send for me himself.”

She drew herself up frowning. “What is a man to choose? Woman bears him; he grows up and seeds like grass, and falls into the furrow. Only the Mother, who brings forth men and gods and gathers them again, sits at the hearthstone of the universe and lives for ever.”

–The King Must Die, p. 66