When I awoke the next morning, I was curled tightly into my cloak, surrounded by a thick heavy mist. The brilliant sunny day from before was gone, replaced by nothing but gray. The outside of my cloak was dampened by the constant touch of the low hanging clouds and the ground all around was spongy with the slight water absorption. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, everything but the trees was awash in the monochromatic color scheme of the day. The gentle surf from yesterday had built and riled slightly as the clouds had drawn in and from the smell of the air, a storm was brewing for the afternoon.
I shivered and wrapped the edges of the cloak around me as I hunched into a ball, pulling my bent knees up under my chin and wrapping my arms around my shins. The confidence I had felt the previous night had fled and now I only felt lonely and melancholy. So much of the life I had come to count on was now uncertain and though I knew that uncertainty was part of the life of a Sacred Wanderer, I still felt tied to the expectations I had brought with me from the start of my training.
What would life be like without Grandmother at the House? I thought about all of the candidates who were vying for the position of Steward and wondered if I’d be able to feel as comfortable with any of them as I did with Grandmother. Of course I knew that was a silly question; not only had I been living with Grandmother for over a year, I associated my own family with her, even though the family I thought was mine was only fostering me while I grew.
Though it was selfish, I vehemently hoped that Maeve would not be the one chosen to replace me. I had no delusions that if she and Claudius were in the same house for months on end, she would choose to continue the intimate physical relationship she started last night after the Beltane fires burned out. As her shadow for an additional three months, I knew I would not be able to bear witness to their union when I wanted so much for him to be in my bed. Though I knew the choice was not mine to make, and that the Goddess was infinitely wiser than I, I still sent a fervent prayer skyward that anyone else be chosen.
But what if none of the women who volunteered were chosen? Who then would continue to guide me, and who could offer Claudius the healing he both needed and deserved? I shook my head to clear the worry out of it as I heard the soft murmur of Grandmother and Gurek as they woke.
Grandmother turned satisfied but sleep clouded eyes to where I was sitting and smiled at me. She rose and headed for the makeshift out house and I gratefully followed her, having already been awake for at least half an hour without relieving my full bladder.
When we finished we did not return to the grove but went back to the spot on the beach where we had set up our campsite the previous night. Gurek was carefully coaxing the few remaining coals back into a fire. In the damp misty morning, his task was proving difficult and it was some time before the fire was blazing enough to set out pots of water for breakfast. As he carefully fed the tiny fire with small branches and twigs that had been protected from the weather by a blanket, a ragged assortment of revelers found their way to us singly and in pairs to warm themselves by the fire and offer their own bits of dried wood.
Soon the fire was blazing merrily and some of the more dampened wood was able to dry then burn in the central fire. Some of the people from the celebration last night only waved as they began their journeys back to their homes, others stayed to chat. Once the first pot of water was bubbling and an exceptionally large quantity of hot tea was brewing for those who brought mugs, Claudius and Maeve stumbled sleepily into the clearing.
They both still had lines of sleep pressed into their cheeks and each of them wore a satisfied half smile as they sat together on one of the driftwood logs. Grandmother cast an appraising eye at them. I managed to look away just before she turned that same gaze on me, though I could feel where she was staring at me, trying to read my face. Strangely I was not bothered to see them together, though I felt as if I had to sneak looks at them, rather than staring outright as Grandmother had done.
Gurek brought mugs of steaming tea to both of them, and passed one to me as he sat down on the log beside Grandmother. “We’ll be needing to head up the hill fer home soon, if ye’re coming with us this day. If ye choose not to, well, then you know the way back to the crest of the hill when and if ye’re ready to return.”
Claudius let go of Maeve’s hand and stretched both arms high above his head, groaning as he woke up further. Taking a sip of the hot tea he knit his brows as he turned to look at his companion, then at me. I ducked my head rather than meet his eyes; I wanted whatever decision he made to be his alone and not influenced by my personal desires. I could feel someone looking at me and raised my head. Maeve had leveled a thoughtful gaze at me and when I looked up at her, she met my eyes without hesitation. A tiny smile curved the corner of her mouth; not a condescending or vindictive smile, but an acknowledgement of common interest between friends. I raised my eyebrows in surprise at the open compassion in her eyes and she nodded once, as if my surprise had decided some matter in her head.
Subtly, but just obviously enough so I could see it, she nudged Claudius with her elbow and whispered something in his ear that nobody but he could hear. She straightened and wound her arm through his. “I find that I’ve much preparin’ to do afore the next new moon and should’na be distracted, even by the very pleasin’ likes o’ye. So if yer plans were dependin’ on mine, I’d not change ‘em. I’ll be sleepin’ alone for the next fortnight as I prepare meself for the testin’ at the Sacred Well.”
She leaned forward conspirationally bypassing both Claudius and Gurek to speak directly to Grandmother. “That was one roll in the grove I’d be right willin’ to roll again! Ye told us at council he was sufferin’ from some malady that required yer assistance, but I can assure ye that the malady does’na lay with his knowledge of the nightly pleasures. She’s a right lucky woman that catches this foine man in her net. His male parts are more than adequately sized and his skill with lips, hands and bits is enough to rival me own.” Claudius had been trying to act nonchalant and had just quaffed a large mouthful of tea when Maeve made her announcement.
He sputtered and choked on the tea, sending a spray of liquid towards the fire as those within earshot laughed appreciatively at his embarrassment. Gurek clapped him on the back and offered him a scrap of towel to wipe his face while complimenting his apparent prowess.
I could feel my own face burning as I struggled not to imagine being the recipient of those skills. Maeve leaned back, caught my eye and winked, that same friendly half smile hidden at the corner of her mouth. She seemed to know me so well already, to be able to read the subtle cues I was trying so hard to hide. I prayed again that the Goddess would choose someone else to represent the House.
“Well lad, it seems you’ve been both rejected and praised highly. Will ye join us coming back to the house?” Claudius voice was still strained from coughing up the tea he had choked on so he only nodded, red faced at Gurek.
Shortly after we packed up the few things we had brought with us and prepared for the return journey up the hill. Grandmother and I changed back into the more sturdy clothing we usually wore, returning the spring dresses to the back packs we were carrying. The walk down hill had taken roughly half a day; the hike up hill would take most of the daylight hours, and perhaps a few of the darker ones if Grandmother was not able to keep pace.
We set out at a steady yet not brisk pace that would have enabled us to reach the crest of the hill before night fall, but after only a few hours we had to slow the pace and rest frequently. Grandmother was feeling cramps in her calves and lower belly that troubled both she and Gurek. Though neither of them spoke about it, I could see by the increase of worry lines on their faces that the cramping in her stomach had them both worried. Still, we continued up the mountain, making brief surges and resting often at Grandmother’s sign.
We stopped for an extended period to eat a cold lunch of dried meats, fruit and two day old bread. Grandmother sent me into the woods while she rested to fetch one of the herbs we had gathered together and Claudius offered to accompany me so Gurek could stay close to Grandmother. With a distracted nod, Gurek dismissed us and we slipped off the trail into the underbrush.
I was looking for a particular type of tree that preferred marshy ground and immediately began to follow a slight stream down hill to where that one type of tree might be found. Soon I came to a small bog that did indeed have one of the trees I was looking for. I carefully inspected the new growth on the branches and selected several that would serve for Grandmother to chew to relieve her pain. I was so intent on harvesting the herb once I found it that I forgot Claudius was with me until I felt his hand on my arm.
When I turned to face him, his face was red and his right hand was shaking where it hung next to his leg. “M-M-M-Marei?” He ducked his head when he heard the stammer and cleared his throat, taking several long deep breaths and clenching and releasing his hand until the trembling stopped. When he had calmed his voice he began again. “Marei, I know you have taken a vow not to speak, and I will not ask that you break that vow. But for this moment you are not a shadow and I wanted you to know something.”
His hand moved from where he had been holding my arm to my hand and he looked down at our hands instead of at my face, so I was free to watch the play of expressions as he struggled to speak again. “I accepted Maeve at the circle, well of course I accepted her, you saw that. What I meant to say is that I enjoyed myself with her; no that’s not what I meant to say at all. Obviously or maybe not so obviously she’s a woman to be enjoyed and apparently she found me pleasing too, with what she said at the fire this morning.”
He swore softly under his breath. “Dammit. This is not how I meant to approach you. I wanted to be suave and sophisticated, not a bumbling, stammering idiot who can’t put together an entire intelligent sentence. I’m such an undignified ass, mooning about over a slip of a girl who’s probably only half my age. I’m a married man. I have no right to feel this way. But Marei, what I mean to say, what I hope comes out of this unintelligible mess is that last night I wished she were you. I wished you were she and that we…” his voice cracked and broke and he cleared his throat again.
He touched the side of my face gently and met my eyes. “Ever since that first night your face has been in both my day and my night dreams. I was horribly disappointed to learn that you would not be dancing yesterday. And I’m sorry for the sudden change in your world, and in mine. Thank you for being with me during the council meeting yesterday. I might have run from them if your hand hadn’t been in mine; instead I stayed and I will stay until I have my answer because you are also waiting for yours. I feel somehow that our answers are connected. I don’t know why. I’ve never had such a feeling of helpless power before.”
He paused and I could feel the electric tension build in the air between us like the feeling in the air before a thunderstorm. I wanted him to kiss me, to take me from my training and live with me forever. He leaned forward slightly and then away. “I want to kiss you, but until I hear your words, until you can tell me with your voice that you would accept me, as boorish and ill mannered as I am, I will not.” He let go of my hand and stepped away repeating as if to convince him self, “I will not.”
“Though I want to.” This last statement was made so quietly that I almost didn’t hear it. He turned from me and ran a shaking hand through his curly hair, more tightly curled from the dampness in the air.
I was shocked. My heart was hammering so loudly in my throat that I thought I might choke on the heady rush of emotions. Almost – almost I flung my vow to the wind and spoke to him. I longed to tell him that I too had wished to be in Maeve’s place. I too wanted him to kiss me. But just when I would have opened my mouth to speak, a bright blue bird burst up from the low lying bushes between us and flew back towards where grandmother and Gurek were waiting. Right away I recognized the warning sign; the jay was a messenger of the Gods. I must hold to my vow. Unbidden, tears prickled at my eyelids as I cursed the silence.
Claudius reached toward me, looking concerned, then dropped his shaking hand and turned away. “Crush my head with a stone, Marei. P-p-pay me no mind. I spoke out of t-t-t-turn. Forgive me for p-p-presuming on your silence, and on your comp-p-pany.” His shoulders rose and fell as he heaved a large sigh. “W-w-w-we should bring those sticks back to Láidáin and Gurek. I’m sure they are w-w-w-waiting impatiently.”
He did not turn back to me, but braced his shoulders and took a deep breath, then started to walk in the same direction that the blue jay had flown. I did not follow immediately but made a show of slowly turning behind myself to collect both a few more branches and my whirling thoughts. What I had only hoped for had been spoken aloud; Claudius too felt the desire that I had been trying to deny. Once again, as last night, a surge of pure joyous energy burst through my heart and chest, leaving me breathless and dizzy with tears in my eyes- this time not of frustration, but of satisfaction.
In my head I offered up a prayer of thanks for the Gods and Goddesses who had brought our hearts together. Surely there was no greater gift than to love and be loved in return. I prayed that we would be able to endure the strict rules of my shadow-hood. It would be only too cruel to share these feelings but never be able to actualize them.
At that thought, the wind whooshed in my ears and the world seemed to tilt abnormally. A wave of unreality blew through me like a cold winter wind, tearing me from my body and smashing me back inside myself within an instant. As my spirit re-entered my body I heard a clanging sound like a giant bell that set my head ringing, and a sudden vision knocked me to my knees.
I looked up as the wave of nausea that had accompanied the noise rolled past and saw the bare, dirty feet of the man I loved. Within the vision I was aware that I was not myself as I knew me now; I could see that though my hands were my own, they were darkened by sun and showed the lines of age and hard work. I could not look higher to see the face of my beloved, though I tried. I was crying, heartbroken sobs, my tears falling on the dusty feet of my love, my husband, washing away the reddish dirt in blood colored rivulets with the salty liquid.
Just as quickly as I saw the flash of what must certainly be my future, it was gone and I was on my knees in the marshy wet moss with Claudius standing in front of me. He had one hand out, reaching down to help me up and his face was a bitter mask of self reproach and concern. I looked at his boot clad feet and wondered; was I seeing a future with Claudius or with someone else? With a grateful smile I took his hand and stood shakily. He did not speak but gathered the branches I had dropped as I wiped the remaining tears from my face.
Gratefully I accepted both the bundle of branches for Grandmother and his arm for support as we left behind the marsh and the vision, and brought the boughs back to where Grandmother and Gurek were waiting.
As we returned to the path, the clouds that had so far been content to be a lazy thick mist decided that they must now begin to rain. After a brief discussion, Grandmother and Gurek decided that continuing until we reached the house would be better than attempting to wait out the storm. Gurek insisted that from an old injury in his hand he could tell that the rain was not going to stop. He feared that if we attempted to camp on the path, Grandmother would catch a chill from the damp air. Since it was going to continue raining, he reasoned that a slow but steady ascent up the Hill would be best to keep Grandmother warm and get her home soonest.
Grandmother agreed and within minutes of our return we were on our way again. Grandmother chewed on small pieces of the branches as she climbed and it did seem to lessen, and at times stop, the cramping so we made decent time as we continued. We only paused for a few minutes to eat a cold dinner then pushed on up the Hill, racing against the dark and the full onslaught of the impending storm.
Because of the heavy clouds, dusk was earlier in coming than usual and the final hours of our journey were in the faded half light of what would have been sunset, and finally in darkness. Since the moon had been full the previous night, the darkness wasn’t absolute; even with the full cloud cover we were still able to carefully pick our way up the path, though we were slowed by the need to place our steps with caution in the deepening gloom.
Seeing the shadow of the House as we left the woods for the clearing, Grandmother cried out in relief. Gurek called Claudius to his side and the two men hurried ahead to make the House welcome. I took Grandmother’s arm and helped her across the field, careful not to move too quickly. She had run out of fresh willow branch almost an hour ago and was struggling with gritted teeth to keep moving despite the resurgent cramping. As light streamed from the windows as the men lit the lamps and candles inside the House, it seemed as if she had renewed strength and vigor. Her pace quickened as the sight of home neared in the low lying clouds. Soon after the lights, the smell of wood smoke wafted through the air, bringing the long awaited scent of warmth.
Again Grandmother increased her pace and I got the impression that though we were almost there, she was rapidly reaching the end of her strength. She leaned heavily against me during the final leg of the field, her breathing heavy and sounding labored in the still night. I put my arm around her waist and held her up as she stumbled the last few feet and into the house. Gurek was just beyond the door, placing a tea pot full of water next to the roaring fire to heat.
When the door opened and we staggered in, he practically sprang across the room, scooping Grandmother into his arms and disappearing with her into her bedroom. Claudius handed me a pile of towels that had been carefully warmed on the hearth as I followed them into the bedroom.
Gurek set Grandmother on her feet and wasted no time removing her wet clothing as if she were a small child and I leaned in to remove her sodden boots one foot at a time. He took towels from the pile and wrapped them around her until she was swaddled like a baby in the warm fabric. One more towel was rubbed against her hair to squeeze out the last of the rain. Briskly wiping the last of the water from her body, he dumped the towels in a pile and pulled a winter’s night dress on over her head. He scooped her off her feet again and tucked her under the covers, wrapping the blankets around her as if trying to tie her to the bed. He took the double thick blankets out of the chest at the bottom of the bed where they had been put in storage until the next winter and covered her with all of them.
“Marei, dry yerself off and hop into that bed to keep her warm and companioned. The lad and I will tend to what needs doin’ here tonight.” With a brusque nod at me, he pushed aside the curtain and began giving Claudius orders.
I could hear the two men talking as I stripped bare, dried off, and put on a dry night dress. I pulled aside the double thick winter blanket and climbed in between that and the usual blankets. I smiled to see that Grandmother was already asleep, her face as peaceful as a child’s. After such a long, cold day and all the emotional excitement, the warm safety of the blanket and Grandmother’s light, rhythmic snores lulled me to sleep too and neither Grandmother nor myself awoke until the next morning.
Marei - book one. Part three: Shadow. Chapter 23
As two couples hand in hand, we left the pole as it was slowly being approached by the increasing tide and made our way through the encampments to our cook fire for dinner. Grandmother and Gurek laughed all through the preparation of the meal as they attempted to do with only two hands what they usually accomplished with four hands. Claudius and I finally had to release hands to assist them when Gurek turned to the fire and Grandmother turned to the store pile and they almost spilled the stew they were comically preparing.
We finally sat together to eat dinner and clean up the mess. Claudius sat close to me on a large piece of drift wood we were using as a makeshift bench, though he did not hold my hand again that night. When we were almost finished, Maeve approached and placed her hand on Claudius’ shoulder.
He started in surprise at her touch but smiled at her shyly when he recognized her. As she sat down closely next to him, pressing the side of her body against his and placing one hand territorially on his thigh, he looked at me, eyes wide. After the intimacy of sharing both fear and comfort, I knew instinctively what he was trying to express and smiled my forgiveness. His eyes searched my face and I very carefully did not allow the disappointed ache in my chest to show as I shrugged and slid away from him on the log.
Somehow I knew that though I was unable to participate in the events of the night, there would be more opportunities to share the connection that had begun weaving us together that afternoon. I felt certain that regardless who he shared the warm evening with, any imprint left on him by that woman would be as fleeting as writing in the sand at low tide. I felt as if he were mine already, that all I had to do was wait until such time as I was able to fully claim him, and that he too felt the unspoken agreement between our souls. We had only to continue the charade of separation until my Shadow term was completed.
Maeve stood and tugged gently at Claudius’ hand so he would follow her. Again he looked to me and I nodded once at him, feeling as if I were giving him permission. He bowed his head slightly and flashed a full, boy-like grin that swelled my heart to bursting. I couldn’t help but smile in return, then he put his hand in Maeve’s and was gone into the descending dusk.
Not long after they had gone, John rang the large silver bell to signify the beginning of the Beltane circle. Gurek and Grandmother, still bound with the red ribbon from the handfasting, walked together to where the Beltane bonfire was blazing up into the darkening sky. I followed at as much of a distance as I could manage, keeping a watchful eye out for Claudius and Maeve.
When we reached the circle, we took our places in a huge ring of people that was surrounding a five foot diameter. The sky had darkened so quickly and the light from the bonfire was so bright that we couldn’t see the faces of the people on the other side of the fire pit; all we could see were the shadows. I was struck by the image that to the people across the circle, all I looked like was the shadow I was supposed to be mimicking. I could only clearly see those within ten feet of me on either side, though over one hundred people had gathered around the fire. The anonymity of the shadows lent me a feeling of both safety and unreality.
John and Ursa, the high priest and priestess for the day, were presiding over this ritual as well. When all had assembled together they cast the protective barrier of energy that kept the negative at bay. Ursa stepped into the circle of light cast by the bonfire and began circling it sun-wise, slowly. Her dress was pale in the fire light and fluttered like leaves and she was wearing the wreaths from the top of the May pole on her head. Her long pale blond hair was flowing freely around her shoulders and fragrant flowers had been woven into tiny braids. She was singing a low crooning song that raised the hairs on the back of my neck as it echoed into the night, punctuated only by the cracks and pops of the central fire. As she sang, Caentigern Strachan stalked into the center of the circle, trailing Ursa by a few steps.
Caentigern had been chosen to be the May Queen’s Consort for the previous year’s Beltane when Maeve had been the priestess for the day. During the ritual, he had strapped deer antlers to his head and protected the May Queen when last years Consort failed; symbolically replacing the old with the new. This year it was he who was playing the role of the old lover who would be thrown down to make way for the new. Again he had strapped deer antlers to his head and was dressed in only a deer hide cape and loin cloth.
I watched in fascination as the age old scene of rebirth and replanting was enacted at the center of the circle. Ursa was still crooning, beckoning for Caentigern to draw closer to her, and closer to the fire where the central altar had been placed. Confidently, he began to stalk closer to her, coming within arms reach of her tantalizing dance when the haunting sound of wolves howling broke through the mesmerizing tune. Ursa’s song stopped in mid stanza, as Caentigern froze in place, head swiveling to all dark corners for the source of the sound. The hair on the back of my neck rose as the howling sounded again, closer this time.
From all around the circle the wolves attacked. Men with wolf pelts pulled low over their faces scurried on hands and feet towards the center where Ursa and Caentigern were stationed. She cried out in fear; a sound that cut into my heart. All around me through the circle I could hear other women’s sharp intake of breath at the terrified noise the helpless woman made as the wolves drew near.
The Consort spun around with a snort and bared his powerful chest to the attacking Wolves, placing himself between the attackers and his Lady. As the Wolves approached, they sprang at Caentigern, snarling and growling, teeth slashing at his throat as they tried to kill the protector of the Sacred Lady. He lashed out with his mighty antlers and hooves, knocking aside Wolves with powerful blows that drove them to their knees. Some of the Wolves did not rise again, but others were merely momentarily stunned and rose again to race in for another attack.
The Beloved Consort fought valiantly, with his Sacred Lady singing a powerful warrior’s song to lend him the strength and blessing of the Goddess. The group gathered around the scene joined the warrior’s song, sending the cry echoing along the beach and into the starlit night. A great cone of energy began to spiral in from the circle of souls surrounding the enactment. The Consort cried out, a powerful rallying cry of triumph and intention as he struck at the Wolves again and again, defending his Lady from the violent death that awaited her at their gaping jaws. Yet even filled with the light of the warrior God, his Powerful blows could not dispatch all the Wolves. Again and again the Wolves’ teeth and claws found their marks as they leaped and slashed at his muscled body until he was dripping with blood and stagering. The Sacred Lady shrank from the carnage, closer to the protection of the central fire as her Consort fell to his knees, bleeding from the throat and belly from the vicious attacks. The warrior’s chant stopped with a stunned collective intake of breath as he fell.
As the Consort wove and struggled to regain his footing to defend his Lady to the death, the Wolves encircled the pair. Four of the Wolves remained from the pack that had started the attack; at least half a dozen more lay dead on the ground around the Consort. In unison the wolves howled into the silence, an eerie, hungry sound that raised the hairs on my arms. The Lady was crying, reaching out to her Beloved Consort as he rose heroically for one final stand against the attackers. For a long moment, silence descended on the hideous tableau; the Lady’s proud sorrow, the Consort’s steadfast bravery and the Wolves intimidating perseverance. Then suddenly, the attack.
All four Wolves rushed forward at once. The largest of the four raced straight towards the Consort, howling a triumphant battle cry. With one mighty leap into the air, the Wolf landed on the Consort, sharp teeth connecting with tender flesh on his neck. The Consort fell. As he fell, the remaining three Wolves raced past the martyred hero towards the Sacred Lady. She fell to her knees, arms raised to the sky, and cried out a prayer imploring the Goddess to save her from the Wolves.
From behind her in the shadows of the fire leaped a Powerful horned figure; bare chested, wearing only the deer skin loin cloth. The antlered man jumped across the five foot flaming pyre in defense of the Sacred Lady. His leap propelled him through the gateway of her open arms and directly in front of her just as the Wolves reached the same spot. Startled by the new arrival, the Wolves faltered and the Stag King plowed into them with his mighty antlers and hooves, driving them back from the center of the circle, past where the Consort had fallen.
With each mighty blow from the Stag King, a Wolf fell and did not rise. Finally, there were none left alive but the largest of the Wolves who had sacrificed the Consort. He backed slowly away from the Stag King, who lowered his head as if to ram the Wolf. As the Stag King galloped forward to kill the Pack Leader, the Pack Leader sprang forward to intercept the blow. The Stag King ducked and turned, impaling the Wolf in mid air with his sharp antlers. For a moment he stood tall and proud with the Wolf’s carcass still stuck in his antlers, then with a mighty shake he tossed the dead Wolf to the ground with the others.
The Stag King turned to the Sacred Lady. While he had been fighting, she had rushed to the side of her Beloved Consort, who lay dying, covered in his own blood. Tears ran down her face as she struggled to hear the final words of her lover. We all leaned forward in careful silence with her.
“I die now because one year’s stores are not enough to stave off the wolves of a second winter; they must be supplemented with fresh meat, new harvests, new loves. The harvest of this season is not yet upon us; only now we plant the tiny seeds that will sprout and grow into that which will sustain us through the long winter months next year. Until you have a new harvest, my love, I give my body to you, to sustain you through the summer.” The Beloved Consort gestured to the King Stag, beckoning him to come near.
“Each season knows a new hero. Last season it was I who saved you from the fury of the Wolves. Now when I die to sustain your body, you must have a new Consort to sustain your soul. I give my son to you, the King Stag, the Sun Bringer, to warm your Earthen body through the summer months and bring about a bountiful harvest to keep you safe and well through the long winter nights of next year.”
The King Stag knelt before the Sacred Lady, bowing his head low. Gently, the Lady kissed her dying Consort, her sweet water tears falling on his bloody face. From her lips, the song of mourning rose with the smoke from the fire as his soul rose into the night sky, to take his place among the fallen heroes in the stars. Tears were running down my cheeks as she caressed his ashen face and held his lifeless body to hers. When she had finished the lament, she kissed her consort again and rose to face the center altar.
The Lady threw her hands up into the air, thanking the Goddess for providing for her life and her needs. She collected a silver plate and chalice as well as a small silver dagger from the altar and brought them back to the Consort. With practiced strokes, she cut his tender flesh into strips and placed them on the silver tray. Holding the goblet to his side, she collected his blood and placed it next to the silver tray.
She intoned a blessing over both the containers and brought the tray to the circle of silent witnesses. One by one we all ate a piece of the Sacred Stag, the Beloved Consort and drank a sip of his Blessed Sacrificial Blood. Though I knew that it was only illusion and suggestion coupled with sleight of hand, the bittersweet taste of the salted wine made me shudder and I could barely chew the tiny piece of meat from the carefully preserved stag that had been ritually hunted and prepared months before this ceremony.
From across the circle, the sweet sound of the marriage song floated on the night breeze. The Sacred Lady returned the offering to the fire, pouring the remaining blood into the fire to blaze a bright blue as it burned. The remains of the meat were tossed into the fire as well and as the marriage song continued to play, the scent of roasting venison filled the circle. The Sacred Lady dipped a pure white cloth into a shining bowl of water on the altar and returned to where the Stag King still waited, kneeling. Tipping his face up so she could see it, she gently washed his wounds.
She removed the deer skin cape that the Consort was wearing and draped it around the shoulders of the Stag King. He stood, facing the Lady as she spoke. “Your bravery has saved me. I take you as my Beloved Consort until such time when you will be called upon to feed my people with your flesh and blood. Come with me and sow the seeds of a new year.” The Beloved Consort bent to kiss the Lady as the marriage song drew to a close.
The Sacred Lady turned to the corpses that littered the center of the circle and called to them, “at death, it is only the body that dies. The soul continues on, being reborn again and again as the spring flowers die and are reborn. Rise up now, and join us again, reborn into our midst as men!”
As a group they began to move, shrugging off the skins of their old selves, washing away the wounds of their staged deaths. The Wolves and the Former Consort stood together as men, without antlers and hooves, without claws and muzzles, their costumes as carcasses still on the ground. The circle cheered as they stood proudly around the fire, displaying faces that were known to all present.
With a hoot of triumph, Caentigern took three steps backwards and ran at the fire, leaping over the blazing white coals and through the crackling flames. Howling their wild wolves cry, the others followed like a stream of bodies across the fire. With each successful leap, the circle stomped their feet, whistling and cheering until the cacophony of sound carried out across the ocean and echoed against the cliffs under the House.
The Sacred Lady raised her hands to the sky in benediction, crying out a blessing to all who were present, and to all who were not. She blessed the unions today with compassion and consideration. She blessed those who broke apart with fresh perspective and continued hope. She blessed the wombs of the women and the seed of the men with fruitfulness. “Now go forth, you blessed beings of the God and Goddess. Take my blessing with you and sow the seeds of life with your passionate cries of pleasure. Your voices raised in the union of body and soul will carry on the wind to the four corners of the earth in benediction. The sweat from your naked bodies as it drips upon the Earth’s flesh will sanctify her for the new years crop. Join your bodies tonight in memory of the Sacred Lady and her ever changing Consort. May we all know the pleasures that they experience.”
Ursa untied the antlers from John’s head and replaced them with one of the wreaths she had been wearing. Together they cried out, “As above, so Below!”
“So mote it be!” The circle responded in unison to the end of the ritual. As John Ursa released the energetic borders that had been drawn at the beginning of the circle, couples paired off and disappeared happily into the woods.
Grandmother and Gurek made their way through the crowd to the area where we had been tenting, then continued beyond into the woods where soft beds of moss and fragrant pine needles were abundant. Still bound as Grandmother’s shadow, I followed them into the quiet of the forest. As we slipped under the shadows of the tall pines, I thought I heard Maeve’s distinctive throaty chuckle to our left. Though I peered into the shadows, I could see nothing; but now I could only think of Claudius.
As Grandmother and Gurek celebrated their handfasting in the traditional manner, I laid on my back looking up through the canopy at the stars. I had been witness to many night time excursions and felt that they deserved a modicum of privacy to celebrate this occasion. The sounds of pleasure drifted on the breeze from all corners and the breeze seemed to intensify in response.
My head was reeling from all that had happened today. Not only had Grandmother decided that we should be parted, and that my apprenticeship would continue with someone I did not know, but Claudius had both noticed and needed me. I took the memory of his hand on mine out to examine, running the fingers of one hand against the other where his hand had held mine. With only the slightest amount of effort I could recall exactly how comforted I felt leaning my head against his arm. My skins memory had been imprinted by his touch and as if his ghost were here, I could feel the pressure of his arm against mine, and his fingers wrapped around mine.
Inside me, the feeling of certainty had stayed, bolstered by the intensely strong memories of his touch. Surely if I could feel him this strongly when we were apart, I must not be mistaken at the depth of feeling when we were together. I hugged myself tightly as the swell of love threatened to overtake my entire being; bursting out of my fingers and toes, streaming from my hair like golden rays of magickal light. I loved him. I gasped at the realization, but I knew it to be true, to the depth of my soul. I loved him.
In that almost quiet moment as my soul shook to the core with the new door of emotion that had been opened, I knew both fear and ecstasy. In that almost quiet moment, I knew that he loved me too. And with a certainty I cannot to this day explain, I knew that he would become mine, body and soul, and that I would be the hand that healed him.
We finally sat together to eat dinner and clean up the mess. Claudius sat close to me on a large piece of drift wood we were using as a makeshift bench, though he did not hold my hand again that night. When we were almost finished, Maeve approached and placed her hand on Claudius’ shoulder.
He started in surprise at her touch but smiled at her shyly when he recognized her. As she sat down closely next to him, pressing the side of her body against his and placing one hand territorially on his thigh, he looked at me, eyes wide. After the intimacy of sharing both fear and comfort, I knew instinctively what he was trying to express and smiled my forgiveness. His eyes searched my face and I very carefully did not allow the disappointed ache in my chest to show as I shrugged and slid away from him on the log.
Somehow I knew that though I was unable to participate in the events of the night, there would be more opportunities to share the connection that had begun weaving us together that afternoon. I felt certain that regardless who he shared the warm evening with, any imprint left on him by that woman would be as fleeting as writing in the sand at low tide. I felt as if he were mine already, that all I had to do was wait until such time as I was able to fully claim him, and that he too felt the unspoken agreement between our souls. We had only to continue the charade of separation until my Shadow term was completed.
Maeve stood and tugged gently at Claudius’ hand so he would follow her. Again he looked to me and I nodded once at him, feeling as if I were giving him permission. He bowed his head slightly and flashed a full, boy-like grin that swelled my heart to bursting. I couldn’t help but smile in return, then he put his hand in Maeve’s and was gone into the descending dusk.
Not long after they had gone, John rang the large silver bell to signify the beginning of the Beltane circle. Gurek and Grandmother, still bound with the red ribbon from the handfasting, walked together to where the Beltane bonfire was blazing up into the darkening sky. I followed at as much of a distance as I could manage, keeping a watchful eye out for Claudius and Maeve.
When we reached the circle, we took our places in a huge ring of people that was surrounding a five foot diameter. The sky had darkened so quickly and the light from the bonfire was so bright that we couldn’t see the faces of the people on the other side of the fire pit; all we could see were the shadows. I was struck by the image that to the people across the circle, all I looked like was the shadow I was supposed to be mimicking. I could only clearly see those within ten feet of me on either side, though over one hundred people had gathered around the fire. The anonymity of the shadows lent me a feeling of both safety and unreality.
John and Ursa, the high priest and priestess for the day, were presiding over this ritual as well. When all had assembled together they cast the protective barrier of energy that kept the negative at bay. Ursa stepped into the circle of light cast by the bonfire and began circling it sun-wise, slowly. Her dress was pale in the fire light and fluttered like leaves and she was wearing the wreaths from the top of the May pole on her head. Her long pale blond hair was flowing freely around her shoulders and fragrant flowers had been woven into tiny braids. She was singing a low crooning song that raised the hairs on the back of my neck as it echoed into the night, punctuated only by the cracks and pops of the central fire. As she sang, Caentigern Strachan stalked into the center of the circle, trailing Ursa by a few steps.
Caentigern had been chosen to be the May Queen’s Consort for the previous year’s Beltane when Maeve had been the priestess for the day. During the ritual, he had strapped deer antlers to his head and protected the May Queen when last years Consort failed; symbolically replacing the old with the new. This year it was he who was playing the role of the old lover who would be thrown down to make way for the new. Again he had strapped deer antlers to his head and was dressed in only a deer hide cape and loin cloth.
I watched in fascination as the age old scene of rebirth and replanting was enacted at the center of the circle. Ursa was still crooning, beckoning for Caentigern to draw closer to her, and closer to the fire where the central altar had been placed. Confidently, he began to stalk closer to her, coming within arms reach of her tantalizing dance when the haunting sound of wolves howling broke through the mesmerizing tune. Ursa’s song stopped in mid stanza, as Caentigern froze in place, head swiveling to all dark corners for the source of the sound. The hair on the back of my neck rose as the howling sounded again, closer this time.
From all around the circle the wolves attacked. Men with wolf pelts pulled low over their faces scurried on hands and feet towards the center where Ursa and Caentigern were stationed. She cried out in fear; a sound that cut into my heart. All around me through the circle I could hear other women’s sharp intake of breath at the terrified noise the helpless woman made as the wolves drew near.
The Consort spun around with a snort and bared his powerful chest to the attacking Wolves, placing himself between the attackers and his Lady. As the Wolves approached, they sprang at Caentigern, snarling and growling, teeth slashing at his throat as they tried to kill the protector of the Sacred Lady. He lashed out with his mighty antlers and hooves, knocking aside Wolves with powerful blows that drove them to their knees. Some of the Wolves did not rise again, but others were merely momentarily stunned and rose again to race in for another attack.
The Beloved Consort fought valiantly, with his Sacred Lady singing a powerful warrior’s song to lend him the strength and blessing of the Goddess. The group gathered around the scene joined the warrior’s song, sending the cry echoing along the beach and into the starlit night. A great cone of energy began to spiral in from the circle of souls surrounding the enactment. The Consort cried out, a powerful rallying cry of triumph and intention as he struck at the Wolves again and again, defending his Lady from the violent death that awaited her at their gaping jaws. Yet even filled with the light of the warrior God, his Powerful blows could not dispatch all the Wolves. Again and again the Wolves’ teeth and claws found their marks as they leaped and slashed at his muscled body until he was dripping with blood and stagering. The Sacred Lady shrank from the carnage, closer to the protection of the central fire as her Consort fell to his knees, bleeding from the throat and belly from the vicious attacks. The warrior’s chant stopped with a stunned collective intake of breath as he fell.
As the Consort wove and struggled to regain his footing to defend his Lady to the death, the Wolves encircled the pair. Four of the Wolves remained from the pack that had started the attack; at least half a dozen more lay dead on the ground around the Consort. In unison the wolves howled into the silence, an eerie, hungry sound that raised the hairs on my arms. The Lady was crying, reaching out to her Beloved Consort as he rose heroically for one final stand against the attackers. For a long moment, silence descended on the hideous tableau; the Lady’s proud sorrow, the Consort’s steadfast bravery and the Wolves intimidating perseverance. Then suddenly, the attack.
All four Wolves rushed forward at once. The largest of the four raced straight towards the Consort, howling a triumphant battle cry. With one mighty leap into the air, the Wolf landed on the Consort, sharp teeth connecting with tender flesh on his neck. The Consort fell. As he fell, the remaining three Wolves raced past the martyred hero towards the Sacred Lady. She fell to her knees, arms raised to the sky, and cried out a prayer imploring the Goddess to save her from the Wolves.
From behind her in the shadows of the fire leaped a Powerful horned figure; bare chested, wearing only the deer skin loin cloth. The antlered man jumped across the five foot flaming pyre in defense of the Sacred Lady. His leap propelled him through the gateway of her open arms and directly in front of her just as the Wolves reached the same spot. Startled by the new arrival, the Wolves faltered and the Stag King plowed into them with his mighty antlers and hooves, driving them back from the center of the circle, past where the Consort had fallen.
With each mighty blow from the Stag King, a Wolf fell and did not rise. Finally, there were none left alive but the largest of the Wolves who had sacrificed the Consort. He backed slowly away from the Stag King, who lowered his head as if to ram the Wolf. As the Stag King galloped forward to kill the Pack Leader, the Pack Leader sprang forward to intercept the blow. The Stag King ducked and turned, impaling the Wolf in mid air with his sharp antlers. For a moment he stood tall and proud with the Wolf’s carcass still stuck in his antlers, then with a mighty shake he tossed the dead Wolf to the ground with the others.
The Stag King turned to the Sacred Lady. While he had been fighting, she had rushed to the side of her Beloved Consort, who lay dying, covered in his own blood. Tears ran down her face as she struggled to hear the final words of her lover. We all leaned forward in careful silence with her.
“I die now because one year’s stores are not enough to stave off the wolves of a second winter; they must be supplemented with fresh meat, new harvests, new loves. The harvest of this season is not yet upon us; only now we plant the tiny seeds that will sprout and grow into that which will sustain us through the long winter months next year. Until you have a new harvest, my love, I give my body to you, to sustain you through the summer.” The Beloved Consort gestured to the King Stag, beckoning him to come near.
“Each season knows a new hero. Last season it was I who saved you from the fury of the Wolves. Now when I die to sustain your body, you must have a new Consort to sustain your soul. I give my son to you, the King Stag, the Sun Bringer, to warm your Earthen body through the summer months and bring about a bountiful harvest to keep you safe and well through the long winter nights of next year.”
The King Stag knelt before the Sacred Lady, bowing his head low. Gently, the Lady kissed her dying Consort, her sweet water tears falling on his bloody face. From her lips, the song of mourning rose with the smoke from the fire as his soul rose into the night sky, to take his place among the fallen heroes in the stars. Tears were running down my cheeks as she caressed his ashen face and held his lifeless body to hers. When she had finished the lament, she kissed her consort again and rose to face the center altar.
The Lady threw her hands up into the air, thanking the Goddess for providing for her life and her needs. She collected a silver plate and chalice as well as a small silver dagger from the altar and brought them back to the Consort. With practiced strokes, she cut his tender flesh into strips and placed them on the silver tray. Holding the goblet to his side, she collected his blood and placed it next to the silver tray.
She intoned a blessing over both the containers and brought the tray to the circle of silent witnesses. One by one we all ate a piece of the Sacred Stag, the Beloved Consort and drank a sip of his Blessed Sacrificial Blood. Though I knew that it was only illusion and suggestion coupled with sleight of hand, the bittersweet taste of the salted wine made me shudder and I could barely chew the tiny piece of meat from the carefully preserved stag that had been ritually hunted and prepared months before this ceremony.
From across the circle, the sweet sound of the marriage song floated on the night breeze. The Sacred Lady returned the offering to the fire, pouring the remaining blood into the fire to blaze a bright blue as it burned. The remains of the meat were tossed into the fire as well and as the marriage song continued to play, the scent of roasting venison filled the circle. The Sacred Lady dipped a pure white cloth into a shining bowl of water on the altar and returned to where the Stag King still waited, kneeling. Tipping his face up so she could see it, she gently washed his wounds.
She removed the deer skin cape that the Consort was wearing and draped it around the shoulders of the Stag King. He stood, facing the Lady as she spoke. “Your bravery has saved me. I take you as my Beloved Consort until such time when you will be called upon to feed my people with your flesh and blood. Come with me and sow the seeds of a new year.” The Beloved Consort bent to kiss the Lady as the marriage song drew to a close.
The Sacred Lady turned to the corpses that littered the center of the circle and called to them, “at death, it is only the body that dies. The soul continues on, being reborn again and again as the spring flowers die and are reborn. Rise up now, and join us again, reborn into our midst as men!”
As a group they began to move, shrugging off the skins of their old selves, washing away the wounds of their staged deaths. The Wolves and the Former Consort stood together as men, without antlers and hooves, without claws and muzzles, their costumes as carcasses still on the ground. The circle cheered as they stood proudly around the fire, displaying faces that were known to all present.
With a hoot of triumph, Caentigern took three steps backwards and ran at the fire, leaping over the blazing white coals and through the crackling flames. Howling their wild wolves cry, the others followed like a stream of bodies across the fire. With each successful leap, the circle stomped their feet, whistling and cheering until the cacophony of sound carried out across the ocean and echoed against the cliffs under the House.
The Sacred Lady raised her hands to the sky in benediction, crying out a blessing to all who were present, and to all who were not. She blessed the unions today with compassion and consideration. She blessed those who broke apart with fresh perspective and continued hope. She blessed the wombs of the women and the seed of the men with fruitfulness. “Now go forth, you blessed beings of the God and Goddess. Take my blessing with you and sow the seeds of life with your passionate cries of pleasure. Your voices raised in the union of body and soul will carry on the wind to the four corners of the earth in benediction. The sweat from your naked bodies as it drips upon the Earth’s flesh will sanctify her for the new years crop. Join your bodies tonight in memory of the Sacred Lady and her ever changing Consort. May we all know the pleasures that they experience.”
Ursa untied the antlers from John’s head and replaced them with one of the wreaths she had been wearing. Together they cried out, “As above, so Below!”
“So mote it be!” The circle responded in unison to the end of the ritual. As John Ursa released the energetic borders that had been drawn at the beginning of the circle, couples paired off and disappeared happily into the woods.
Grandmother and Gurek made their way through the crowd to the area where we had been tenting, then continued beyond into the woods where soft beds of moss and fragrant pine needles were abundant. Still bound as Grandmother’s shadow, I followed them into the quiet of the forest. As we slipped under the shadows of the tall pines, I thought I heard Maeve’s distinctive throaty chuckle to our left. Though I peered into the shadows, I could see nothing; but now I could only think of Claudius.
As Grandmother and Gurek celebrated their handfasting in the traditional manner, I laid on my back looking up through the canopy at the stars. I had been witness to many night time excursions and felt that they deserved a modicum of privacy to celebrate this occasion. The sounds of pleasure drifted on the breeze from all corners and the breeze seemed to intensify in response.
My head was reeling from all that had happened today. Not only had Grandmother decided that we should be parted, and that my apprenticeship would continue with someone I did not know, but Claudius had both noticed and needed me. I took the memory of his hand on mine out to examine, running the fingers of one hand against the other where his hand had held mine. With only the slightest amount of effort I could recall exactly how comforted I felt leaning my head against his arm. My skins memory had been imprinted by his touch and as if his ghost were here, I could feel the pressure of his arm against mine, and his fingers wrapped around mine.
Inside me, the feeling of certainty had stayed, bolstered by the intensely strong memories of his touch. Surely if I could feel him this strongly when we were apart, I must not be mistaken at the depth of feeling when we were together. I hugged myself tightly as the swell of love threatened to overtake my entire being; bursting out of my fingers and toes, streaming from my hair like golden rays of magickal light. I loved him. I gasped at the realization, but I knew it to be true, to the depth of my soul. I loved him.
In that almost quiet moment as my soul shook to the core with the new door of emotion that had been opened, I knew both fear and ecstasy. In that almost quiet moment, I knew that he loved me too. And with a certainty I cannot to this day explain, I knew that he would become mine, body and soul, and that I would be the hand that healed him.
Marei - book one. Part three: Shadow. Chapter 22
The couples who did not need to be present for the Council drifted off towards the forest or towards a tent to engage in the pleasurable act that would allow them to sever the binding cord. Some other couples from the May pole pairings walked away, hand in hand, to explore the beach or to find their own secluded groves for the night celebrations.
Several of the elders remained and gathered nearer to the pole where John and Ursa were still standing with their arms around each other’s hips. I found myself standing next to Claudius who had stayed to watch the proceedings when Maeve left his side to join the Council members. When all who were required for the Council’s quorum were assembled, John turned to Grandmother and inclined his head slightly to indicate that it was she who should address the assembled group.
“Respected Elders, I am Láidáin, the Lady Steward of the House on the Hill. I have served this capacity for the swing of almost twenty year’s cycles, keeping the sacred grove of the Oak Man safe, preserving the testing rituals of initiation, and keeping to the sacred traditions of the Divine Triple Goddess. My door has been open to all who have sought refuge there. Justice has been dispensed, babies have been birthed, young girls have been trained and many a druid priestess has emerged ready to share her sacred self with our world and the world beyond these shores. I have birthed 2 other children from the Beltane pairings and count them both as children of the God. Though these children were fostered away from me, as is the tradition for the Steward, they both are now highly respected within their communities and well on their way to becoming Elders themselves.
“Now though,” she smiled into Gurek’s eyes as she continued, “I have finally found the lover that the God and Goddess have preserved and presented to me. And we have been blessed by a child, even in our age. I have read the signs, I have seen the augury: the Goddess favors our union and the birth of this child.
“As it is written that no married woman shall be Steward of the House because the vows of marriage may impede the ritual she may be called on to perform, I will relinquish my position as Steward. During the handfasting time, I can still be the Steward in name if none can be found who is suited to the task. But as you know if Gurek and I jump the marriage broom next spring, the House must be tended by another priestess who is ready both in ability and willingness to tend to its needs, and the needs of those who seek it.
“I ask that you call forth one who will willingly shoulder the burden and complete the joyous duties of Stewardship. I also ask that with the acceptance of this position the additional responsibility of completing the shadow cycle of my initiate and granddaughter pass to the current Steward, as is only right.” If I had been allowed to speak, I would certainly have protested in my shock. Without the ability to speak against the pronunciation, I simply stared; mouth open, tears in my eyes. Surely Grandmother could not leave me behind with the House and whoever would be there to take her place.
As I cried silently in distress I felt a warm hand wrap protectively around my clenched fingers. Without looking to see who it was, I opened my fist and intertwined our fingers, grateful for the silent support. I hiccupped in surprise when I saw that it was Claudius, still standing beside me, who had reached out to me in my sorrow. He stared steadfastly ahead with his jaw clenched, studiously not looking at me though a muscle in his jaw twitched repeatedly. He noticed! I thought, simultaneously ecstatic and grief stricken and as if he heard my happy cry, he squeezed my hand briefly.
I returned the squeeze in thanks and turned my attention back to the Council meeting, a warm glow spreading from our interlaced fingers through my entire body. Taking half a step closer to him, I leaned my arm against his and laid my head on the lightly muscled expanse of his upper arm. With that amount of physical contact I finally felt as if I were not going to fly off into the blue afternoon sky and was able to focus on what was being said in the circle of people in front of me.
John was talking, but quieter now as if he too was saddened by Grandmother’s announcement. “Ursa and I have been caretakers of the Steward since me father passed to the other side almost fifteen years ago. We have served the current Steward faithfully and will continue to serve whoever fills that position in the future. We have a great knowledge of the surrounding woods and the stores and supplies needed for a year’s cycle in the House and will gladly share them with the new Steward, so do not feel if ye volunteer for this position, ye will be alone or without resources. The Steward has always been well cared for by the Woodsman Family and when Ursa and I are gone, our son Little John has vowed to continue on in our place.”
Kevin Abernathy, the judge of property disputes that John had referenced earlier stepped forward into the ring. His long white hair was braided and tied with a green leather thong and his equally long and white beard was also freshly braided and decorated with beads and feathers. “John, we all thank you for that heartfelt statement of support. Many a Steward has been well tended by a member of the Woodsman family. My heart is comforted to know that such a fine family as yours will continue to be the supporting backbone of the heart of our Hill.” He clasped both hands together, saluting John and Ursa then continued. “I feel we should review the requirements for candidacy, John. It’s been so long since we’ve had to pick a new Steward that some who are now considered Elders in this circle have never had the opportunity to join in the choosing. Though we were all taught the regulations, and memorizing them was part of our training, hearing them spoken aloud could benefit us all.”
“Please do us that service, Master Abernathy.” John nodded towards the wizened old man who nodded in agreement and cleared his throat.
“Let all who have ears hear my words today,” he began in the traditional manner to indicate that he was starting a recitation instead of a story. “The Steward of the House on the Hill must meet several qualifications to be considered acceptable to that position. First, the House on the Hill is a meeting ground for Earth and Water; the Steward must be a woman. Second, the priestess duties require the giving of body, mind and soul; the Steward must not be married. Third, the priestess duties are arduous and require much training so that they may be completed fully and accurately; the Steward must have passed her testing at the Cauldron, emerged through vision at the woman’s initiation, served a year as a shadow of the Goddess, and returned sound of mind and body from her Wayward Journey. Fourth, the priestess must have knowledge of the people of the area; the Steward must be active currently within a tribe, clan or coven in this area, or be engaged in the discipline of Sacred Wanderer across the Island, and meet with the approval of this Council. Finally, the priestess must be beloved of the Goddess; the Steward must be tested and selected by the hand of the Goddess herself in the Sacred Well. I pray you have heard my words”
“Thank you Master Abernathy.” John continued, “With these requirements in mind, are there any within our Council who would like to either volunteer or suggest a candidate for Stewardship of the House on the Hill?”
A slightly strained silence followed his question. Several of the women in the circle were obviously wrestling with the idea and the men were in rapt consideration of who they might nominate, if they chose anyone. I was straining to hear any answer at all, carefully watching the faces of those in front of me when Maeve took a step forward.
“I meet the first four requirements. If the council will approve me I will submit to the testin’ required at the Sacred Well.” Heads nodded and voices murmured.
“Council, Maeve Callaghan has volunteered to submit herself to the will of the Goddess. Do ye approve?” All around the circle voices gave agreement and heads nodded their assent. John turned to Maeve. “Ye have been approved for consideration by this council. We await your Testing.” He then turned back to the rest of the group. “Are there any others who would like to either volunteer or suggest a candidate for Stewardship of the House on the Hill?”
Two busty red haired women stepped forward together. From the look of them, I knew they were sisters; one was taller than the other but both had the same freckled nose and the same shade of brilliant copper colored hair, with the same green eyes flashing out from behind dark lashes. They spoke simultaneously, as if they were twins. “We meet the first four requirements. If the council approves, we will submit ourselves to the Test of the Well.”
“Council, Conandil and Aime Crichton have volunteered to submit themselves to the will of the Goddess. Do you approve?”
One of the older men in the Council with salt and pepper hair addressed the two women. “Me girls, the Steward is a position for only one woman. For as long as I’ve known ye both, and I’ve known ye since ye were born, ye’ve gone everywhere and done everything together. Would either of ye be able to let the other be alone on the Hill if only one of you were chosen by the Goddess?”
“We have been together for as long as we can remember, even being born at almost the same time, from the same mother…” one of them started
“But the House must have a Steward, and we both fulfill the qualifications. If the Goddess so chooses, we will be parted from each other to serve her better,” the other continued where the first had left off.
John repeated his earlier question, “Council, do you approve?” This time there were no further questions and all present agreed that the Crichton twins would be allowed to be tested. “Aime and Conandil Crichton, ye have been approved for consideration by this council. We await your Testing. Are there any others who would like to either volunteer or suggest a candidate for Stewardship of the House on the Hill?”
A toothless old woman with large pendulous breasts under a gaudy, bright pink, bell covered robe stepped forward from close to me. Her hair was long, but not well kempt and had started to curl back upon itself and looked like a sheep’s coat after the rain. She had purposely used some purple dye that was usually reserved for fabric on the ends of her corded gray hair and had woven beads, feathers and bones into the thick ropes of hair as if it were an elderly man’s beard. To my surprise she did not smell unwashed, as she looked; instead she had a faint odor of incense and wax and an unidentifiable sweetness that seemed to emanate from her when she moved. With a gummy grin, she pointed her finger across the circle and crowed in a strikingly pleasant voice, “Lassarina Kinnear, I nominate you! You meet all the first four requirements. Step forward and be counted, you old coward!” She virtually howled with laughter as the other woman grumpily stepped forward.
The second woman was truly a sight to behold. She wore dark brown pants that had been covered in embroidered symbols and runes. Though the pants were loose fitting and flowed easily from the gathered waist, they did nothing to hide the knock-knees and pigeon-toes that bent her legs at odd and uncomfortable looking angles. Her back was hunched on the right side and she leaned heavily on a thick cane that she used to punctuate her speech as a warrior would use his sword to rally troops. Her fingers on the top of the cane were knotted and stained with age and her nails were so long on the middle two fingers that they curled in on themselves in a spiral. Her shirt was strained to the breaking point as it stretched to cover both the hunched back and the abnormally large breast on the left side. Her right breast was so small as to be nearly invisible so the overall effect was as if someone had removed her right breast and reattached it on her back.
But her face was what drew me. For even though her body was misshapen and painful to look at for long, her face was strangely beautiful. Her hair was a mixture of silver and the copper color that must have been predominant when she was younger and flowed as softly as a maiden’s hair in gentle waves around her shoulders. She was what common folk would refer to as “bat-faced” with a high, flat, wide forehead, broad cheekbones and pointy chin. But the look was softened by a tiny, delicate mouth with perfect pearl white teeth and rosy apple red cheeks. One of her eyes was deep brown with red flecks and had a depth that was difficult to look into without feeling as if she knew everything about you. But the other eye was whitish, not clouded over with aged blindness, but without color of its own. The albino eye roamed around independently of the other eye and without any apparent rhyme or reason. The combination of grotesque and attractive made her seem as intriguing as a carved statue.
When she spoke her voice was a husky contralto. “Aye Beirnis Macauley, you crazy old bird woman; I meet the four requirements and I will submit myself to the Test of the Sacred Well.”
John opened his mouth to announce her to council, but at one glance from those commanding eyes his mouth snapped shut. “Once long ago when we were young lasses, Láidáin Barran Callaghan, Beirnis Macauley and meself all took the initiation rite together. We all three have become powerful women in our own ways, and the bonds of friendship run deep, even with Beirnis’ wicked tongue.”
“It’s all I’ve got left! I might as well use it up too!” Beirnis catcalled to Lassarina and they exchanged grins with obvious affection.
“Láidáin has served her term well and long and for that we all thank her, and wish her well as she finally gets to retire to a very attractive bed mate.” Lassarina winked her albino eye and Beirnis hooted with laughter as Gurek flexed his muscles as if posing for the two older women. “I will submit to the test, on the grounds that the Goddess must still see use for my twisted husk of a body, and to ensure that a dear friend gets her happy retirement. But I will only be Tested if the Beauteous Beirnis agrees also to submit to the Testing.”
Lassarina raised a grizzled and clawed hand to point to the gape mouthed, jingling woman. “Beirnis Macauley, you meet the first four requirements and I nominate you to undergo the testing to be Steward of the House!”
“Well hot damn!” Beirnis slapped her thigh and jingled across the circle to hug Lassarina. “You old coot, I should have known you’d have a trick such as that up your sleeve. Now if I want to see you rot on top of that cold miserable hill, I have to submit myself to the testing too! And at my age…”
“Beirnis, you’re a full five years younger than I am.”
“Ah yes, that I am. But I do believe that the quality of the time accounts for how heavily the age weighs upon weary bones. By that token, I must be at least twice your age by now!” Both old women hooted with laughter, arms around each others shoulders.
John finally dared to speak again. “So does this mean that ye are both accepting the nominations?”
The two ladies exchanged glances that were simultaneously a kind of glee, a secret language, and a challenge. In unison, they crowed, “we accept the nomination!” Lassarina added, “consult the council now, young man, before we doddering old women fall down from exhaustion.”
Like a chastened young boy, John hastily asked the council the ceremonial question that was quickly approved by all present. “So then,” John wiped a hand across his brow, obviously glad to no longer be under the scrutiny of the two old women. “Are there any others who would like to volunteer or suggest a candidate for Stewardship of the House on the Hill?”
When no one else stepped forward, John called the Council meeting to a close. “We have five hopeful candidates for the Steward. The Testing at the Sacred Well will fall on the next new moon. Anyone who cannot, for whatever reason, be in attendance will forfeit her chance to be tested. May the Goddess find one within our midst who is worthy to be known as the Steward. Since we are all gathered together now, does anyone here have news to present or requests to make?”
Grandmother stepped forward again, bringing the attached Gurek with her. “Council; I have been approached by a young man for healing, and I can vouch that his heart is determined and willing to make the changes required to heal. However, though I have been consulting what methods are available to me for more than a ten-day, I have been unsuccessful in acquiring the knowledge of how best to help him. I know only that he has an important role to play in the future of this island, though that role has not yet been revealed to either he nor I, and that it is by the hand of a Sacred Wanderer that he will receive the healing he has requested. I ask for any who are willing to consult your oracles on his behalf, and mine.”
Claudius stiffened next to me and I could feel the slight pulse from his arm beneath my cheek begin to race. I shifted slightly closer to him and rubbed my cheek lightly against his arm in an attempt to comfort him without being too conspicuous. He squeezed my hand again and I returned the gesture, a feeling of possessive warmth spreading through me as he very briefly nuzzled his head against mine. I had not realized that Grandmother’s retirement might mean that he would also be leaving the House, or that he might have to seek elsewhere to acquire the assistance he needed.
Several of the Council members agreed that they would also consult their oracles to determine the best method to help Claudius, if there was one to be seen. Grandmother inclined her head and thanked them when she was interrupted by Lassarina who thumped her heavy walking stick on the ground before she spoke to get the Council’s attention. “I will see what I see, Láidáin, but also will I bring it to the Sacred Well at the testing. Perhaps only the Goddess herself knows best how to assist this young man, if the normal oracles are silent.”
Nodding in thoughtful agreement Grandmother mused, “you may be right ‘Rina. Perhaps we need a higher oracle. I thank you for your insight and await any answers any might find.” She stepped back into the outer ring of the circle with Gurek and nodded to John.
“Any other matters to be brought before the Council?” He turned around in a circle, inspecting the faces of all who were there before he continued with the traditional closing of a Council meeting. “We all give thanks for our continued health and ability to be present at the Council. Go from here with the peace of the Goddess in yer heart and the strength of the God in yer feet. As above, So Below.”
As the final closing statement was echoed by all present, the Council broke off into groups to prepare for their dinners before the central circle that would be attended by all parties later that evening before dusk. Grandmother wrapped her non bound arm around Gurek and leaned heavily on his shoulder as if she were exhausted. Soothingly he patted her hair. Gradually, when she did not move away from him, I realized that Grandmother was crying. I felt tears fill my eyes as I contemplated the idea of what it meant to all of us, not just myself, that Grandmother was leaving the House on the Hill.
I had not known that Grandmother had been Steward for twenty years; that was longer than I’d been alive. What must she be feeling to leave a House that had been her home for that long? Even though I knew she loved Gurek, she must be feeling as if her entire way of life was ending. And though she was moving into another life well supported, she was taking steps that most women felt apprehensive about; she was getting married and having a baby. I also had not known that Grandmother had birthed children besides my mother. That Maeve and Grandmother had the same last name had not escaped my attention and I wondered to myself if Maeve was her other child. Grandmother finally straightened. In a loving gesture, Gurek wiped away her tears with his thumb and kissed her.
“Letting go of the House was harder than I thought it would be,” she murmured. She straightened her shoulders decisively and turned around to face me, pivoting at the handfasting cord that still bound her hand to Gurek. “Marei, I apologize for not warning you before today of the consequences of my actions, and the effect my decisions would have on your life. I feel I have been remiss in some aspects of your training because of my preoccupation with this pregnancy and the joy of my new love with Gurek. It is my hope to rectify this by passing the remains of your training on to a fresher Steward who is ready to prepare you to walk the Wayfarer’s Journey as a Sacred Wanderer.”
For the entire time she had been talking, she had been looking directly in my eyes and as I saw her eyes travel from my face to include my stance with Claudius I became self conscious. I had been so enthralled with the proceedings of the Council meeting, and so comforted by his presence that I had forgotten I was still leaning against him, and that we were holding hands. Under her careful scrutiny I felt compelled to lift my head from Claudius’ arm and shift slightly to give more space between us. When I loosed my grip on his fingers to release his hand, however, he held tight and would not let go as if he needed the comfort of my hand as much as I had needed the comfort of his.
“And wh-wh-what of me Láidáin? W-W-Where should I go when you leave the House? Should I accompany you, because it w-w-was you wh-wh-who agreed to help me, or am I also a responsibility to be p-p-passed to your successor?” Claudius’ voice cracked betraying his agitation as the stammer showed through his careful mask of neutrality. I squeezed his hand supportively as he had mine earlier and felt him squeeze back in acknowledgement and shift slightly towards me until our arms were touching again. Only then did I realize that he was just as frightened by the sudden changes as I was.
“Ah, Claudius; I apologize also to you for not preparing you to hear of my retirement before it happened. Not knowing the ways of our people this must be both confusing and frightening to you. In truth, it is your decision whether or not you stay at the house. You were seeking the Steward when you came, and soon I will no longer be the Steward; perhaps it would be best to remain with she who will bear the title after me. I believe you have found more than just the assistance of the Steward when you found the House.” She looked pointedly at me and though I felt again as if I should pull away, the steady pressure of his hand reassured me and I did not move. She continued, “I have also not been able to determine how best to assist you with your request; so it may be that I am not the person who is able to help you. Perhaps you should also wait to see what others will learn on your behalf before you decide where to stay, or if you should go. The testing at the Sacred Well will be in a fort-night. Stay at the House and join us again at that Council’s meeting for a report of what was seen on your behalf.”
Claudius nodded once shortly, the muscle in his jaw twitching again as he clenched his teeth.
“But for now, the time draws closer for feeding our hungry bellies before we go to the great Circle and beyond to the festivities of the evening. Láidáin, m’khindẻǽ, I think we are too close to our supper for the enjoyment of our bond. We will have to persevere and prepare the evening meal with one hand each and save our pleasures for after dark as the young dancers must do.” Gurek scowled in mock frustration that made all four of us laugh. “Come now, let’s find our fire and have some food before the Circle begins.”
Several of the elders remained and gathered nearer to the pole where John and Ursa were still standing with their arms around each other’s hips. I found myself standing next to Claudius who had stayed to watch the proceedings when Maeve left his side to join the Council members. When all who were required for the Council’s quorum were assembled, John turned to Grandmother and inclined his head slightly to indicate that it was she who should address the assembled group.
“Respected Elders, I am Láidáin, the Lady Steward of the House on the Hill. I have served this capacity for the swing of almost twenty year’s cycles, keeping the sacred grove of the Oak Man safe, preserving the testing rituals of initiation, and keeping to the sacred traditions of the Divine Triple Goddess. My door has been open to all who have sought refuge there. Justice has been dispensed, babies have been birthed, young girls have been trained and many a druid priestess has emerged ready to share her sacred self with our world and the world beyond these shores. I have birthed 2 other children from the Beltane pairings and count them both as children of the God. Though these children were fostered away from me, as is the tradition for the Steward, they both are now highly respected within their communities and well on their way to becoming Elders themselves.
“Now though,” she smiled into Gurek’s eyes as she continued, “I have finally found the lover that the God and Goddess have preserved and presented to me. And we have been blessed by a child, even in our age. I have read the signs, I have seen the augury: the Goddess favors our union and the birth of this child.
“As it is written that no married woman shall be Steward of the House because the vows of marriage may impede the ritual she may be called on to perform, I will relinquish my position as Steward. During the handfasting time, I can still be the Steward in name if none can be found who is suited to the task. But as you know if Gurek and I jump the marriage broom next spring, the House must be tended by another priestess who is ready both in ability and willingness to tend to its needs, and the needs of those who seek it.
“I ask that you call forth one who will willingly shoulder the burden and complete the joyous duties of Stewardship. I also ask that with the acceptance of this position the additional responsibility of completing the shadow cycle of my initiate and granddaughter pass to the current Steward, as is only right.” If I had been allowed to speak, I would certainly have protested in my shock. Without the ability to speak against the pronunciation, I simply stared; mouth open, tears in my eyes. Surely Grandmother could not leave me behind with the House and whoever would be there to take her place.
As I cried silently in distress I felt a warm hand wrap protectively around my clenched fingers. Without looking to see who it was, I opened my fist and intertwined our fingers, grateful for the silent support. I hiccupped in surprise when I saw that it was Claudius, still standing beside me, who had reached out to me in my sorrow. He stared steadfastly ahead with his jaw clenched, studiously not looking at me though a muscle in his jaw twitched repeatedly. He noticed! I thought, simultaneously ecstatic and grief stricken and as if he heard my happy cry, he squeezed my hand briefly.
I returned the squeeze in thanks and turned my attention back to the Council meeting, a warm glow spreading from our interlaced fingers through my entire body. Taking half a step closer to him, I leaned my arm against his and laid my head on the lightly muscled expanse of his upper arm. With that amount of physical contact I finally felt as if I were not going to fly off into the blue afternoon sky and was able to focus on what was being said in the circle of people in front of me.
John was talking, but quieter now as if he too was saddened by Grandmother’s announcement. “Ursa and I have been caretakers of the Steward since me father passed to the other side almost fifteen years ago. We have served the current Steward faithfully and will continue to serve whoever fills that position in the future. We have a great knowledge of the surrounding woods and the stores and supplies needed for a year’s cycle in the House and will gladly share them with the new Steward, so do not feel if ye volunteer for this position, ye will be alone or without resources. The Steward has always been well cared for by the Woodsman Family and when Ursa and I are gone, our son Little John has vowed to continue on in our place.”
Kevin Abernathy, the judge of property disputes that John had referenced earlier stepped forward into the ring. His long white hair was braided and tied with a green leather thong and his equally long and white beard was also freshly braided and decorated with beads and feathers. “John, we all thank you for that heartfelt statement of support. Many a Steward has been well tended by a member of the Woodsman family. My heart is comforted to know that such a fine family as yours will continue to be the supporting backbone of the heart of our Hill.” He clasped both hands together, saluting John and Ursa then continued. “I feel we should review the requirements for candidacy, John. It’s been so long since we’ve had to pick a new Steward that some who are now considered Elders in this circle have never had the opportunity to join in the choosing. Though we were all taught the regulations, and memorizing them was part of our training, hearing them spoken aloud could benefit us all.”
“Please do us that service, Master Abernathy.” John nodded towards the wizened old man who nodded in agreement and cleared his throat.
“Let all who have ears hear my words today,” he began in the traditional manner to indicate that he was starting a recitation instead of a story. “The Steward of the House on the Hill must meet several qualifications to be considered acceptable to that position. First, the House on the Hill is a meeting ground for Earth and Water; the Steward must be a woman. Second, the priestess duties require the giving of body, mind and soul; the Steward must not be married. Third, the priestess duties are arduous and require much training so that they may be completed fully and accurately; the Steward must have passed her testing at the Cauldron, emerged through vision at the woman’s initiation, served a year as a shadow of the Goddess, and returned sound of mind and body from her Wayward Journey. Fourth, the priestess must have knowledge of the people of the area; the Steward must be active currently within a tribe, clan or coven in this area, or be engaged in the discipline of Sacred Wanderer across the Island, and meet with the approval of this Council. Finally, the priestess must be beloved of the Goddess; the Steward must be tested and selected by the hand of the Goddess herself in the Sacred Well. I pray you have heard my words”
“Thank you Master Abernathy.” John continued, “With these requirements in mind, are there any within our Council who would like to either volunteer or suggest a candidate for Stewardship of the House on the Hill?”
A slightly strained silence followed his question. Several of the women in the circle were obviously wrestling with the idea and the men were in rapt consideration of who they might nominate, if they chose anyone. I was straining to hear any answer at all, carefully watching the faces of those in front of me when Maeve took a step forward.
“I meet the first four requirements. If the council will approve me I will submit to the testin’ required at the Sacred Well.” Heads nodded and voices murmured.
“Council, Maeve Callaghan has volunteered to submit herself to the will of the Goddess. Do ye approve?” All around the circle voices gave agreement and heads nodded their assent. John turned to Maeve. “Ye have been approved for consideration by this council. We await your Testing.” He then turned back to the rest of the group. “Are there any others who would like to either volunteer or suggest a candidate for Stewardship of the House on the Hill?”
Two busty red haired women stepped forward together. From the look of them, I knew they were sisters; one was taller than the other but both had the same freckled nose and the same shade of brilliant copper colored hair, with the same green eyes flashing out from behind dark lashes. They spoke simultaneously, as if they were twins. “We meet the first four requirements. If the council approves, we will submit ourselves to the Test of the Well.”
“Council, Conandil and Aime Crichton have volunteered to submit themselves to the will of the Goddess. Do you approve?”
One of the older men in the Council with salt and pepper hair addressed the two women. “Me girls, the Steward is a position for only one woman. For as long as I’ve known ye both, and I’ve known ye since ye were born, ye’ve gone everywhere and done everything together. Would either of ye be able to let the other be alone on the Hill if only one of you were chosen by the Goddess?”
“We have been together for as long as we can remember, even being born at almost the same time, from the same mother…” one of them started
“But the House must have a Steward, and we both fulfill the qualifications. If the Goddess so chooses, we will be parted from each other to serve her better,” the other continued where the first had left off.
John repeated his earlier question, “Council, do you approve?” This time there were no further questions and all present agreed that the Crichton twins would be allowed to be tested. “Aime and Conandil Crichton, ye have been approved for consideration by this council. We await your Testing. Are there any others who would like to either volunteer or suggest a candidate for Stewardship of the House on the Hill?”
A toothless old woman with large pendulous breasts under a gaudy, bright pink, bell covered robe stepped forward from close to me. Her hair was long, but not well kempt and had started to curl back upon itself and looked like a sheep’s coat after the rain. She had purposely used some purple dye that was usually reserved for fabric on the ends of her corded gray hair and had woven beads, feathers and bones into the thick ropes of hair as if it were an elderly man’s beard. To my surprise she did not smell unwashed, as she looked; instead she had a faint odor of incense and wax and an unidentifiable sweetness that seemed to emanate from her when she moved. With a gummy grin, she pointed her finger across the circle and crowed in a strikingly pleasant voice, “Lassarina Kinnear, I nominate you! You meet all the first four requirements. Step forward and be counted, you old coward!” She virtually howled with laughter as the other woman grumpily stepped forward.
The second woman was truly a sight to behold. She wore dark brown pants that had been covered in embroidered symbols and runes. Though the pants were loose fitting and flowed easily from the gathered waist, they did nothing to hide the knock-knees and pigeon-toes that bent her legs at odd and uncomfortable looking angles. Her back was hunched on the right side and she leaned heavily on a thick cane that she used to punctuate her speech as a warrior would use his sword to rally troops. Her fingers on the top of the cane were knotted and stained with age and her nails were so long on the middle two fingers that they curled in on themselves in a spiral. Her shirt was strained to the breaking point as it stretched to cover both the hunched back and the abnormally large breast on the left side. Her right breast was so small as to be nearly invisible so the overall effect was as if someone had removed her right breast and reattached it on her back.
But her face was what drew me. For even though her body was misshapen and painful to look at for long, her face was strangely beautiful. Her hair was a mixture of silver and the copper color that must have been predominant when she was younger and flowed as softly as a maiden’s hair in gentle waves around her shoulders. She was what common folk would refer to as “bat-faced” with a high, flat, wide forehead, broad cheekbones and pointy chin. But the look was softened by a tiny, delicate mouth with perfect pearl white teeth and rosy apple red cheeks. One of her eyes was deep brown with red flecks and had a depth that was difficult to look into without feeling as if she knew everything about you. But the other eye was whitish, not clouded over with aged blindness, but without color of its own. The albino eye roamed around independently of the other eye and without any apparent rhyme or reason. The combination of grotesque and attractive made her seem as intriguing as a carved statue.
When she spoke her voice was a husky contralto. “Aye Beirnis Macauley, you crazy old bird woman; I meet the four requirements and I will submit myself to the Test of the Sacred Well.”
John opened his mouth to announce her to council, but at one glance from those commanding eyes his mouth snapped shut. “Once long ago when we were young lasses, Láidáin Barran Callaghan, Beirnis Macauley and meself all took the initiation rite together. We all three have become powerful women in our own ways, and the bonds of friendship run deep, even with Beirnis’ wicked tongue.”
“It’s all I’ve got left! I might as well use it up too!” Beirnis catcalled to Lassarina and they exchanged grins with obvious affection.
“Láidáin has served her term well and long and for that we all thank her, and wish her well as she finally gets to retire to a very attractive bed mate.” Lassarina winked her albino eye and Beirnis hooted with laughter as Gurek flexed his muscles as if posing for the two older women. “I will submit to the test, on the grounds that the Goddess must still see use for my twisted husk of a body, and to ensure that a dear friend gets her happy retirement. But I will only be Tested if the Beauteous Beirnis agrees also to submit to the Testing.”
Lassarina raised a grizzled and clawed hand to point to the gape mouthed, jingling woman. “Beirnis Macauley, you meet the first four requirements and I nominate you to undergo the testing to be Steward of the House!”
“Well hot damn!” Beirnis slapped her thigh and jingled across the circle to hug Lassarina. “You old coot, I should have known you’d have a trick such as that up your sleeve. Now if I want to see you rot on top of that cold miserable hill, I have to submit myself to the testing too! And at my age…”
“Beirnis, you’re a full five years younger than I am.”
“Ah yes, that I am. But I do believe that the quality of the time accounts for how heavily the age weighs upon weary bones. By that token, I must be at least twice your age by now!” Both old women hooted with laughter, arms around each others shoulders.
John finally dared to speak again. “So does this mean that ye are both accepting the nominations?”
The two ladies exchanged glances that were simultaneously a kind of glee, a secret language, and a challenge. In unison, they crowed, “we accept the nomination!” Lassarina added, “consult the council now, young man, before we doddering old women fall down from exhaustion.”
Like a chastened young boy, John hastily asked the council the ceremonial question that was quickly approved by all present. “So then,” John wiped a hand across his brow, obviously glad to no longer be under the scrutiny of the two old women. “Are there any others who would like to volunteer or suggest a candidate for Stewardship of the House on the Hill?”
When no one else stepped forward, John called the Council meeting to a close. “We have five hopeful candidates for the Steward. The Testing at the Sacred Well will fall on the next new moon. Anyone who cannot, for whatever reason, be in attendance will forfeit her chance to be tested. May the Goddess find one within our midst who is worthy to be known as the Steward. Since we are all gathered together now, does anyone here have news to present or requests to make?”
Grandmother stepped forward again, bringing the attached Gurek with her. “Council; I have been approached by a young man for healing, and I can vouch that his heart is determined and willing to make the changes required to heal. However, though I have been consulting what methods are available to me for more than a ten-day, I have been unsuccessful in acquiring the knowledge of how best to help him. I know only that he has an important role to play in the future of this island, though that role has not yet been revealed to either he nor I, and that it is by the hand of a Sacred Wanderer that he will receive the healing he has requested. I ask for any who are willing to consult your oracles on his behalf, and mine.”
Claudius stiffened next to me and I could feel the slight pulse from his arm beneath my cheek begin to race. I shifted slightly closer to him and rubbed my cheek lightly against his arm in an attempt to comfort him without being too conspicuous. He squeezed my hand again and I returned the gesture, a feeling of possessive warmth spreading through me as he very briefly nuzzled his head against mine. I had not realized that Grandmother’s retirement might mean that he would also be leaving the House, or that he might have to seek elsewhere to acquire the assistance he needed.
Several of the Council members agreed that they would also consult their oracles to determine the best method to help Claudius, if there was one to be seen. Grandmother inclined her head and thanked them when she was interrupted by Lassarina who thumped her heavy walking stick on the ground before she spoke to get the Council’s attention. “I will see what I see, Láidáin, but also will I bring it to the Sacred Well at the testing. Perhaps only the Goddess herself knows best how to assist this young man, if the normal oracles are silent.”
Nodding in thoughtful agreement Grandmother mused, “you may be right ‘Rina. Perhaps we need a higher oracle. I thank you for your insight and await any answers any might find.” She stepped back into the outer ring of the circle with Gurek and nodded to John.
“Any other matters to be brought before the Council?” He turned around in a circle, inspecting the faces of all who were there before he continued with the traditional closing of a Council meeting. “We all give thanks for our continued health and ability to be present at the Council. Go from here with the peace of the Goddess in yer heart and the strength of the God in yer feet. As above, So Below.”
As the final closing statement was echoed by all present, the Council broke off into groups to prepare for their dinners before the central circle that would be attended by all parties later that evening before dusk. Grandmother wrapped her non bound arm around Gurek and leaned heavily on his shoulder as if she were exhausted. Soothingly he patted her hair. Gradually, when she did not move away from him, I realized that Grandmother was crying. I felt tears fill my eyes as I contemplated the idea of what it meant to all of us, not just myself, that Grandmother was leaving the House on the Hill.
I had not known that Grandmother had been Steward for twenty years; that was longer than I’d been alive. What must she be feeling to leave a House that had been her home for that long? Even though I knew she loved Gurek, she must be feeling as if her entire way of life was ending. And though she was moving into another life well supported, she was taking steps that most women felt apprehensive about; she was getting married and having a baby. I also had not known that Grandmother had birthed children besides my mother. That Maeve and Grandmother had the same last name had not escaped my attention and I wondered to myself if Maeve was her other child. Grandmother finally straightened. In a loving gesture, Gurek wiped away her tears with his thumb and kissed her.
“Letting go of the House was harder than I thought it would be,” she murmured. She straightened her shoulders decisively and turned around to face me, pivoting at the handfasting cord that still bound her hand to Gurek. “Marei, I apologize for not warning you before today of the consequences of my actions, and the effect my decisions would have on your life. I feel I have been remiss in some aspects of your training because of my preoccupation with this pregnancy and the joy of my new love with Gurek. It is my hope to rectify this by passing the remains of your training on to a fresher Steward who is ready to prepare you to walk the Wayfarer’s Journey as a Sacred Wanderer.”
For the entire time she had been talking, she had been looking directly in my eyes and as I saw her eyes travel from my face to include my stance with Claudius I became self conscious. I had been so enthralled with the proceedings of the Council meeting, and so comforted by his presence that I had forgotten I was still leaning against him, and that we were holding hands. Under her careful scrutiny I felt compelled to lift my head from Claudius’ arm and shift slightly to give more space between us. When I loosed my grip on his fingers to release his hand, however, he held tight and would not let go as if he needed the comfort of my hand as much as I had needed the comfort of his.
“And wh-wh-what of me Láidáin? W-W-Where should I go when you leave the House? Should I accompany you, because it w-w-was you wh-wh-who agreed to help me, or am I also a responsibility to be p-p-passed to your successor?” Claudius’ voice cracked betraying his agitation as the stammer showed through his careful mask of neutrality. I squeezed his hand supportively as he had mine earlier and felt him squeeze back in acknowledgement and shift slightly towards me until our arms were touching again. Only then did I realize that he was just as frightened by the sudden changes as I was.
“Ah, Claudius; I apologize also to you for not preparing you to hear of my retirement before it happened. Not knowing the ways of our people this must be both confusing and frightening to you. In truth, it is your decision whether or not you stay at the house. You were seeking the Steward when you came, and soon I will no longer be the Steward; perhaps it would be best to remain with she who will bear the title after me. I believe you have found more than just the assistance of the Steward when you found the House.” She looked pointedly at me and though I felt again as if I should pull away, the steady pressure of his hand reassured me and I did not move. She continued, “I have also not been able to determine how best to assist you with your request; so it may be that I am not the person who is able to help you. Perhaps you should also wait to see what others will learn on your behalf before you decide where to stay, or if you should go. The testing at the Sacred Well will be in a fort-night. Stay at the House and join us again at that Council’s meeting for a report of what was seen on your behalf.”
Claudius nodded once shortly, the muscle in his jaw twitching again as he clenched his teeth.
“But for now, the time draws closer for feeding our hungry bellies before we go to the great Circle and beyond to the festivities of the evening. Láidáin, m’khindẻǽ, I think we are too close to our supper for the enjoyment of our bond. We will have to persevere and prepare the evening meal with one hand each and save our pleasures for after dark as the young dancers must do.” Gurek scowled in mock frustration that made all four of us laugh. “Come now, let’s find our fire and have some food before the Circle begins.”
Marei - book one. Part three: Shadow. Chapter 21
Because Grandmother’s balance and endurance were slightly less than usual because of her pregnancy and because Claudius’ foot was still sore from the ankle injury we left the day before the Beltane celebration so we would have time to rest and relax before the celebrations. The journey down the hill was made easier by the addition of some sturdy walking sticks that Gurek had brought in from the woods. Together we joked and laughed in the warm spring weather.
Claudius had borrowed a set of clothes from Gurek that were better suited to the climate and terrain than his flimsy wrap and broken sandals. He looked luscious in a dark blue and green striped tartan kilt and a moss green full sleeved, open necked shirt. Gurek was at least a head shorter than Claudius so the kilt was a wee bit short, revealing his well formed legs and an inch or two of thigh.
Once we reached the beach, the sun had fully crested and was halfway to dusk. I had not been to the ocean since Beltane last year so I spent the late afternoon chasing waves and collecting shells, temporarily released from shadowing Grandmother. Later that evening Gurek and Claudius collected piles of driftwood and started a blazing fire to chase away the darkness.
We slept under the clear chilled sky just beyond the tide line, the almost full moon lighting the beach enough so it looked as if morning was dawning. I lay awake for hours, listening to the rhythmic sound of the tide and counting the stars until my eyes drifted shut. If I dreamed that night, I have no memory of it, only of sleeping soundly, curled into my cloak until morning. The next morning, we were awakened by the shrill cries of the seagulls hustling for our supply of food.
Beltane had dawned crisp and clear with fine misty dew draped over the trees that were just beyond the surf and the barest of mist lingering close to the dampened sand at the edge of the tide line. As the sun rose, the morning warmed from the night’s gentle chill into a pleasantly warm spring day; today would not be so hot as to be uncomfortable or dangerous, but would keep us all satisfied wearing our new, brightly colored spring clothes. Grandmother and I stepped into the woods to don the new dresses that had been designed to make ourselves look like the riot of flowers that were blooming on every available surface. Grandmother’s short sleeved dress was a pale purple, the color of lilacs or the inside of the crocus and flowed in wide folds from under her growing bosom to her ankles. Mine was the daffodil yellow dress I had struggled so hard to make during my winter alone before Grandmother had arrived. I had not grown much since I had cut and designed the dress with the exception of my own growing bosom which swelled against the fabric and threatened to spill out if I moved too much. Though I would be shadowing Grandmother and not participating in the partnering rituals of the day, I felt pleased that though I had not planned the dress to be provocative, it would surely draw a gaze or two.
We returned to the beach to find that Gurek and Claudius had heated some cured meat over the coals from the previous evening’s fire and made some oatmeal. I was not disappointed to note that Claudius’ eyes did indeed stray to my almost exposed chest. Shortly after we had eaten our breakfast and thrown the remains to the waiting seagulls, we began to hear more voices than those of the gulls.
Singularly and in groups people began arriving on the beach, flocking to our already burning fire and setting up camp sites in a crescent shape behind the fire pit. As the sun rose to mid morning and the tide dipped towards low we heard the beginnings of a loud cry from the paths in the woods. The children that had been playing on the beach turned like the flock of gulls they had been chasing and headed straight for the woods, cheering and calling with wild abandon.
From out of the paths in the woods, John Woodsman strode forth in a hooded, brown ceremonial robe hoisting a twenty foot, flower-topped pole over one shoulder. Layers of ribbons wound round the pole from previous year’s Beltane celebrations. The sheer quantity of woven ribbon bulged out from the pole and doubled the girth of the naked pole. Ursa and John had placed a pair of matching floral wreaths on the top of the pole and Ursa was carrying a basket of ribbons spooled on small pieces of wood.
The tide was still receding so John brought the pole just above the edge of the water line to give everyone a chance to dance as close to the ocean as they could. Everyone who had gathered on the beach clustered around John and Ursa as Gurek and several of the other men dug a deep hole in the sand for the pole so it would stand sturdily as the dancers wove round repeatedly. When the hole had been dug deeply enough to support the top-heavy pole John bellowed “Hup!” and planted the base of the pole in the wet sand. Children scurried to scoop piles of wet sand with hands and feet into the hole and both men and women packed it tightly around the pole until it was standing tall and steady on the beach against the cerulean blue sky.
Grandmother walked to the May pole, splashing her bare feet in the gentle surf like a small child. Gurek had followed her and stood just outside the reach of the lapping waves, watching her intently with a wide, proud grin. I joined her, letting the chilly water lap at my toes and dampen the bottom hem of my dress.
John bellowed to all who were on the beach, though few were far enough to require his booming bray. “Oyay! Oyay! Weddings at the pole! Step forward if you’ve done your time and still want more!” The crowd around him laughed appreciatively at his joke and dutifully three couples stepped out of the mass and stood next to John, each couple holding hands. John nodded with satisfaction.
“Else and Seamus; good to see you both still smiling. What with the wild way ye started last year we all wondered if ye’d make it through the year without one killing the other! Though there were bets on who would do the killing and who would make it into a cairn, we’re glad to see that none of us were correct.” The crowd laughed again as the delighted young couple playfully pushed each other then kissed passionately.
“Aohden and Laisrian,” he paused to inspect Laisrian’s pregnant belly. “I see that the Gods have favored yer union with a blessed child. May yer boon be strong and healthy and yer birthing easy.” Aohden nodded his thanks and placed a hand protectively on Laisrian’s belly as she grinned from ear to ear.
“Kevin and Berriona? Really?” He laughed loud and long, throwing his head back in the characteristic gesture of mirth I had come to know and love. “I must say I am surprised. If I recall correctly, neither of ye was pleased with yer pairing last year, but both were willing to celebrate in the name of the God and Goddess, even if ye did not find yer bed with yer intended partner. None of us saw ye afterward and we all assumed that ye had such a horrible time together that ye left for home at earliest light. Now I can see that perhaps we didn’t see ye because ye stayed longer in the groves than the rest!” Both of them stood taller and prouder as they looked longingly at each other. I could see in their eyes the kind of devotion that Grandmother and Gurek shared.
“We didna see either of ye at the handfasting ritual last year though. Have ye been properly witnessed to yer year and a day?”
“Aye, sir. We were duly witnessed by our parents and grandparents on the day after the Beltane gatherers dispersed.” Kevin stepped forward and held out a folded piece of parchment paper to John. John opened the crinkly paper and read what was written on the inside.
“Yer good Grandmother took the time to commit the date to paper for us, and all of your elders have affixed their seals to the bottom of the page. Though ye are a day early for the handfasting contract, I suppose we can let ye take part in the celebrations.” He handed the paper back to Kevin with an exaggerated wink. “Well now, if there’s none else to be wed,” John paused dramatically as if waiting for a last minute decision from someone in the crowd, “I suppose I’ll have to be doing my duty as the marriage priest for this year.”
“As you all know well, marriage is not to be undertaken lightly. It is a sacred union, a mirroring of the eternal partnering of the God and Goddess. Ye have all spent your handfasting time, living as husband and wife, wife and husband. Ladies, do you agree that ye wish to spend more than a year and a day in the bed of yer man? Will ye put food on his table, milk his goats, wash and mend his undergarments no matter how soiled, birth his children and pleasure his bed?”
Two of the women replied with a loud and ringing “I will.” Feisty Else added on an exclaimed “Ye betcha!” to the promise of fealty. The crowd cheered lustily, banging drums, ringing bells and clapping hands.
“Lords, do ye agree that ye wish to spend more than a year and a day in the bed of yer woman? Will ye plant and hunt to keep her fed, chop and lug firewood in the winter, understand the womanly need for fancy ribbons on dresses, sire her children and pleasure her bed?”
All three men virtually yelled their answers to John as again the crowd hooted and shouted; banging on the instruments they had brought with them.
John’s voice rang above the crowd’s ruckus, “Family of celebrants; we have six more married people among us! Strike up the tune and lay the broom!”
From out of the crowd, Ursa brought a wide whisked broom made of flowers from the first blooming fields as the joyous wedding song sprang forth from half a dozen flutes simultaneously. Holding hands, the couples skipped and danced sun-wise three times around last year’s woven May pole, then leaped like deer over the broom Ursa had placed on the ground. When all three couples had jumped the broom, they joined hands alternating men and women and wound a circle dance in the middle of the cheering and clapping crowd. As both song and dance circled round to the end, they partnered with their new spouses and kissed quite passionately amid much applause until the end of the song.
The excited congratulatory chatter persisted until John raised his voice over the din in a bellow that turned all attention good naturedly towards him. “Now lords and ladies; which of ye thought that a year would do ye good and found instead that ye’d be better off dancing the pole with someone else? Step forward now if ye seek to companionably break the bonds of handfasting that ye took on the beach last spring.”
This time only two pairs stepped forward from the crowd. Neither couple was holding hands and one couple were standing in postures that looked almost defensive; arms crossed at their chests and backs facing each other. John nodded and grinned with as much satisfaction as he had at the married couples.
“Beirnis and Conchubbar,” he addressed the more amiable of the two pairs. “I’m glad to see that ye took the time to test that childhood infatuation. Not all young playmates are destined to stay their lives under one roof.” They both nodded their assent and looked at each other with a gaze of friendship mingled with sorrow’s wisdom.
“Alannah and Bercnan, ‘tis sad indeed to see ill will between ye. But that is indeed the purpose of the year and a day; it allows only enough time to know if the match is good, but not enough time to truly ruin the heart. Perhaps the distance will allow ye to be friends again later.”
“Now then, it is time to publicly disperse the temporary vows you took last year, since they are not satisfactory to body or soul. There can be no argument brooked by this separation. Both parties agreed to the initial trial and now both parties agree to the dissolution. If any properties or material goods were purchased jointly and need to be parceled out, the couples may see the good Kevin Abernathy for a fair decision after the renouncement of the vows. As we have all trusted Kevin’s decisions in the past and known them to be fair, his decisions in the present and future will be respected and utilized.”
John turned from addressing the crowd to speak directly to the four people in front of him. “Ladies, do ye agree that ye no longer wish to share house and home with this man, and that ye will bear him no ill will, nor intentionally do harm to him or his family in the future because of this separation”
Beirnis nodded and uttered a quiet “I do agree” but Alanna virtually shouted her assent.
“Lords, do ye agree that ye no longer wish to share house and home with this woman, and that ye will bear her no ill will, nor intentionally do harm to her or her family in the future because of this separation?”
Both Bercnan and Conchubbar firmly stated their agreement, but as he did Conchubbar turned to look sadly at Beirnis, a sigh following his confirmation.
John raised both hands to the clear blue sky. “We have all heard that these two pairs no longer wish to be bound together and that they have assented not to bear the burden of ill will against the other party. None here or abroad shall find any reason to criticize their decisions either during the vowed year, or now that they have returned to the list of eligible dancers. We celebrate their fine intellects in knowing their hearts needs and desires and support them in this new stage of life as we did before and will again.” The crowd cheered again, banging on drums and blowing shrill notes on the reed flutes.
As he had for the married couples, John bellowed, “Strike up the tune and lay down the broom!” Ursa was ready and brought forth a broom that was dried and brown, looking brittle in the bright morning’s light. She laid it carefully on the ground as a cheerful reel was started on the flutes. The four separated people grasped hands, alternating male and female as the married couples had done and danced widdershins around the broom. The reel became faster and faster and just when it seemed none could go any faster, the former couples broke out of the circle dance and stepped forward as a group to crush last year’s now fragile marriage broom. The twigs of the handle broke with loud snaps and cracks and the carefully dried floral collection from the top of the broom virtually disintegrated. Tiny pieces of browned flowers were caught by the playful ocean breeze and spread across the beach.
All four of the people dancing called out triumphantly as they smashed the old broom. When they were done, all were finally smiling. Beirnis and Conchubbar grasped each other in a bear hug of friendship and with a sheepish but satisfied grin, Alanna and Bercnan grasped forearms in a classic symbol of friendship. The crowd cheered again, wild and unruly.
“Now then,” John’s huge voice boomed above the cheering, “it is time for these newly separated folk to join the weaving dance and proclaim them-selves single yet again. We give them the privilege of choosing the first ribbons of the spring!” The crowd cheered for them again as they gathered around Ursa and her basket of ribbons, each one taking a spool of shining ribbon.
John bellowed in his giant’s booming voice, “All those who wish to dance the May Pole should fetch their ribbons to be attached to the top of the pole by our newly wedded friends.” People all over the beach flocked to the pole. Claudius hung back from the crowd and approached Grandmother and I where we stood, a short distance away from the ribbons and pole.
“Will you be joining the dancing Láidáin?” He asked Grandmother, looking over his shoulder at the gathering throng.
Grandmother shook her head and smiled indulgently at him. “Not this time, my sweet young friend. My field has already been planted, so I leave the dancing to the young and still fertile. You’re welcome to join the dancing – you don’t need to be local or druid trained to join in; all you have to do is know how to go over and under.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her and repeated the tail end of her phrase, “over and under?”
“The men have the red ribbons and the women have the white. All the men face widdershins and the women face sun-wise. When the music starts, you begin to walk in the direction that you’re facing. When you encounter the first woman, you duck under her ribbon and continue walking. At the next woman, you let her duck under your ribbon. Then you duck under the next woman’s ribbon and so on over and under until you all run out of ribbon. This is often the first introduction that the young men and women have with each other and often it is from the glances made at this dance that the couples know who they want to be paired with after the dark falls.
“All of the ribbons are different lengths, but two of the ribbons are longer than the others so that one man and one woman are left at the end. They lead the choosing of partners for the remainder of the festivities, alternating between a man picking his woman and a woman picking her man and sealing the choosing with a kiss. Each person picked has the opportunity to refuse the one who chose them by presenting their cheek to be kissed instead of their lips. Then the picked person will return to the group in hopes that they will be able to pick their heart’s desire, or be picked by them. The choosing continues in order from the longest ribbons down to the shortest.”
Claudius glanced at me, standing slightly behind Grandmother. “Will Marei be allowed to join in the dancing? Perhaps she could lead me in the dance.” His neck flushed slightly as his eyes lingered slightly on me.
My heart thumped once in my chest as our eyes met. Did he find me attractive? Was he implying that he would want to partner me in the dance or perhaps in the festivities in the dark later that night? All at once I became impatient with the constraints of the shadow role and I ached to be allowed the freedom to dance and flirt and know the touch of a man. Instead I knew I would have to stay close at the side of my Grandmother and experience the Beltane dancing and merry making with only as much enthusiasm as she could muster. I sighed and stared at my figuratively hobbled feet burrowing into the sand.
I chafed at the length of time that remained until I could be free of the shadowy bonds and walk alone, be free to do what I wanted and with whom, regardless of what Grandmother was doing. Grudgingly I had to admit that I understood the reason behind the shadow period and that abiding by the training rules of the Sacred Wanderer was well worth whatever sacrifice I had to make. But right now, with the potential for obtaining that which I desired directly in front of me, it was agony to only watch and wait. I sighed again. I suppose the irritation of watching and waiting when you wanted something had value too; how else was I to learn patience? At that moment I was not sure patience was a virtue I cared to possess.
With a twinkle in her eye Grandmother shook her head again, looking back and forth between Claudius’ flushed face and my obvious irritation. “Marei is bound as a shadow for another two rituals time. Until the new moon after that second ritual she must remain silent, tied to the Steward’s actions, witnessing but not directly participating except through the Steward’s participation.”
Claudius cleared his throat and looked as if he would say more, but then Grandmother gave Claudius a playful shove on the shoulder. “Go and dance. What would be better than to experience the ways of a different culture first hand, instead of through long dead tales of war and glory?”
With one more furtive look at me, he shrugged and a timid smile played across his full lips as he looked longingly at the dancers. At another teasing push on his shoulder he finally crossed the sand towards the basket of ribbons Ursa held. In a flurry of good natured teasing, the women and men picked spools of ribbon from the basket. The newly married couples hoisted the woman on top of the man’s shoulders so Else, Laisrian and Berriona could attach the ribbons with metal pins to the top of the pole. Amid the throng I caught a glimpse of Meallán, the young wheat thresher I had noticed at the Samhain festival last year, and of Little John Woodsman, old enough now to dance round the pole.
The dancers lined up, men and women facing each other; the women in brightly colored dresses and most of the men were wearing nothing but their best kilts. Several of the older people from the local villages had brought instruments with them, Grandmother included. She struck up a merry but slow-tempo jig on a high pitched reed flute. Within moments, the well known tune had been echoed on other wind instruments and several of the drummers had added an infectious counter rhythm. I had a small hand drum with me that I added to the mix of instruments and voices.
With a curtsey at the men, the women began the dance. Holding their white ribbons high for the men to duck under they each had the chance to fully appraise the physical virtues of the men they encountered. Then as they ducked under the purposefully low red ribbons of the men, the women’s bodily charms threatened to spill out of tight bodices. The men leered good naturedly and the women laughed, their light giggles raising above the sound of the music.
Claudius was hesitant at first, barely meeting the eyes of the young women he passed as he wove over and under the white ribbons. But after he became comfortable with the rhythmic pattern he began to relax and a smile crept onto his face. One of the women, a seamstress named Maeve who had attended all of the rituals I had been to and been priestess of the Beltane ritual last year, had been eyeing him as she approached. As he passed under her ribbon she reached out and smacked him flirtingly on the bottom. In surprise his head shot up, eyebrows raised almost to his hair line as he looked towards the woman on his left.
I stifled a laugh at the expression of shock written on his face, but then swallowed it when I saw her wink boldly at him. Until that moment, I had not entertained the notion that by participating in the dance, Claudius was offering himself as an available man and might actually accept the advances of another woman. I had naively thought that he would only dance and then spend the night in the company of myself, Grandmother and Gurek as always. A band of anger tightened the muscles in my forehead as I considered the implications of Maeve’s brazen actions.
Inside me a fiery debate raged; on one hand, Claudius was an attractive man who deserved to be flirted with, by many women. Maeve obviously had good taste, so she couldn’t be all bad. Claudius had every right to want to participate fully in the rituals of Beltane; didn’t I also long to fully know the night’s rituals? And I was not able to take part on my own in the rituals, leaving me exempt from the night pairings; I had no claim to Claudius.
But oh how I wanted to lay claim to him. Watching him dance round the circle, laughing down at Maeve as she teased him all I could feel was a burning desire to be Maeve; to have it be me whose eyes he was timidly daring to seek, even when I was not beside him. I wanted to be the one who would lay with him, naked under the stars, exploring the essence of divinity merging.
As I mindlessly drummed, my mind began to wander and I pictured myself dancing around the circle next spring. I was looking for Claudius, ducking and weaving around and under the red ribbons of the other men in the circle. As I came around near the group of drummers I could see him; his eyes met mine and burned into my soul, labeling me forever as belonging to him. He passed so near to me as we danced that I could feel the brush of his muscled thigh against my hip. “Tonight” he whispered as we passed. My heart began to thrum in time with the steady beat as I imagined that our two ribbons were the longest and we stood together at the end of the dance. I could almost feel the press of his lips on mine as in my mind he leaned in to kiss me and seal the promise of meeting later, in the groves, in the darkness.
My inner reveries were broken by a loud cheer. I opened my eyes to see that the ribbons had been fully wound as I had indulged my fantasies. At the center of the circle were Meallán and Maeve. Traditionally the man was allowed to make his choice first and Meallán did not hesitate to choose a broad shouldered red-head with unruly short hair who immediately signaled her pleasure at being chosen by kissing him full and long on the mouth. Maeve also did not hesitate and pointed straight away to the man she had been eyeing for the entire dance; Claudius.
This time his entire head flushed bright pink in embarrassment or excitement or both and he stammered a bit, taking one step back and away from the group. Maeve laughed throatily, tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder and parted the crowd to reach him.
“Well, lad?” She questioned him cheekily, arms akimbo and one hip thrust out to the side provocatively. “I get first pickin’s and ye’re one whose taste I do not yet know by action or reputation.” Her eyes raked him up and down with a practiced measuring glance. “I can see that ye’re a foine specimen too, quite ‘andsome to look at and a wee bit timid, which I find right endearing. Will ye join me in the private games later this e’en?”
Claudius gulped and looked at Grandmother who nodded encouragingly. Keeping his eyes wide open, he leaned forward and kissed the saucy brunette on the lips. My heart fell as I watched him kiss another woman after I had imagined so vividly the feeling of his lips on mine. Unbidden tears rose in my eyes and I swallowed hard around a thick lump in my throat, forcing the emotional response to abate. I would not cry; Claudius had every right to make merry with anyone he chose and I had no right to feel badly about it.
Though I tried to hide it, Grandmother still saw the slight dampness that misted over my eyes and with her eyes full of compassion she turned to speak to me. “Marei, you will have your turn, both to choose your heart’s desire and to dance round the May pole. I know it’s hard for you to watch now and not participate, but you will get the chance to be the woman you envy.”
I wished now more than at any other time that I could question Grandmother about those cryptic remarks. Did she mean that I would have my chance with Claudius, or within the circle, or both? I mulled over the possible meanings to her statement and vowed that I would add this question to my list of questions to ask when my time of silence had ended.
The group of dancers had all paired up successfully, to the delight of all involved. Already the group was breaking off into the chosen pairs and excitedly bringing their evening’s intended back to family members and friends for introductions. As Claudius led Maeve by the hand to where Grandmother and I were standing I wiped away any stray traces of tears and swallowed hard to present a neutral face to them both.
As they neared, Maeve recognized Grandmother and dropped Claudius’ hand to give her a hug. “Láidáin! Is this foine young man with ye then? Ye’re lookin’ right foine yerself, all rounded at the belly. Is it Gurek’s doin’? We’ve not seen ‘im in town this past winter long.”
Grandmother smiled broadly and nodded answering her questions in order. “Yes, Maeve; this young man Claudius is a visitor to the House on the Hill. He’s a historian from Rome interested in knowing more about our ways and practices.” Claudius’ face registered surprise that she had not told Maeve the real reason for his visit. “I had invited him to join us for Beltane but I see that it’s your invitation he has truly accepted. I trust that you’ll explain fully to him the reasons for all that we do here today in a way I am not able.”
Grandmother raised her eyebrow mischievously at Maeve and they both laughed with delight as Claudius blushed bright pink at the implication. “He’s a right timid feller, ain’t ‘e? I think I’ll ‘ave a grand time givin’ this quite attractive visitor a lesson or two.” As Maeve spoke she both winked at Claudius and placed her hand possessively on his bottom, giving it a teasing squeeze. Even I had a hard time holding in a laugh at the astonished look on Claudius’ face as she kept repeatedly handling him and openly discussing their upcoming intimacy.
Grandmother interrupted the laughter, answering Maeve’s second question with her hand on her rounded belly. “And yes, my current fruit is from Gurek’s seeds; we’re to be wed after the babe is born.”
I had been with Grandmother and Gurek when they had consulted the augury to determine if the child could be kept and if they could join in marriage, so it was not surprising for me to hear that they would be wed. Maeve, however, clapped excitedly like a young child and virtually squealed with glee, impulsively hugging the older woman tightly.
“Láidáin! Tis a miracle, this is! We’ve all though ye’d live and die a-lonely atop that great white hill, serving the ‘Ouse and seekers. And Gurek; ‘e’s far too ‘andsome a man to ‘ave lived without a woman in ‘is bed for so long. Tis a right foine pleasure to ‘ear that ye’ll both be findin’ company and love, finally!” She took a step back, still holding tightly to Grandmother’s small shoulders. “What does that mean for the ‘Ouse’s Steward now? Will ye retire the post and live down a-town with Gurek? ‘Ave you read the signs?”
Grandmother nodded again, a brief shadowed look haunting the hollows of her face. “I have; we both have – Gurek was with me when I read the augury. We were permitted both joys – the mixed blessing and sorrow of retiring my position as Steward to become a wife, and the joy of birthing the baby we both longed for in our advancing years…”
“Aye, ye must be at an age where yer moons are not comin’ as steady as afore,” Maeve interrupted. She laughed heartily, a booming ring of a laugh that was almost as loud and infectious as John’s. “I must say, I won’t be disappointed when my moon ceases flowing and I can settle down to being a crone. But fer now, I intend to put all my foine womanly skills to use. No need in wasting away the years of motherly hips by lyin’ lonely in me bed!” She cast a lascivious glance at Claudius, who was still standing awkwardly beside her and ran her hand slowly up his arm.
Bemused as Claudius squirmed under Maeve’s forward attention, I wondered if he had ever had a woman respond to him as Maeve was; perhaps the brassy brunette would be good for his ego. Certainly I did not begrudge her the choice; I had to agree that Claudius was quite an attractive visitor. When I thought no one was looking I ran my eyes longingly up and down his well formed frame, savoring the sight of him in the more traditional clothing of my people. I wondered briefly if he was regimental under the kilt or if he had chosen to bind his parts in a cloth as some of the younger men had taken to doing.
Maeve caught me staring and laughed conspirationally at the desire I had briefly allowed to show. “Seems this wee lass a’hind you shares me opinion of our friend’s foine figure. She was just givin’ ‘im the up-en-down as if she’d like to eat ‘im up. She’s not so young as to be forbidden from the dance – is she yer ‘prentice then? Servin’ a year’s time in the shadow of yer movements? Are ye trainin’ her to replace ye at the ‘Ouse?”
I missed Grandmother’s reply as the blood rushed to my face. In horror at having my feelings revealed so casually I turned to look at Claudius, sure that I would find him contemplating the ground in that way he did when he was uncomfortable in a situation. Instead I found him gazing wide eyed at me, a tender, sweet smile curving the corners of his lips. As our eyes met, a surge of lightning’s wild current passed between us and I could not look away from his deep green eyes. I felt certain I had never noticed the exact color of his eyes before, how they were light in the center like young fresh leaves and darkening to a deep piney ring on the outer edge.
Though I did not see it happen, Grandmother told me later that Maeve noticed the look that passed between us and let it pass with a knowing smile. What I did notice was that she put her arm around his waist possessively and broke the gaze by pressing against him. I felt bereft without his eyes to stare into and my heart was still beating wildly in my chest like a frightened rabbit in a snare. Just then Gurek approached Grandmother, draping his arm around her shoulders and kissing her affectionately in the crook of the neck. “M’khindẻǽ, the time for the handfasting draws nigh.” His brows knit in tenderness and concern. “Are you sure that you want this as I do?”
Grandmother turned her head and they kissed lingeringly. “M’khindẻǽ, I want this more than you could know. I am so certain, after all our many years serving each other within the confines of our duties, I long only now to serve you in pleasure. If our custom was not wise in expecting the handfasting first, I would marry you today.”
Gurek’s smile shamed the bright spring sun and to my amazement, his eyes filled with tears. “I love you, Láidáin, and will love you for as long as I live.”
John’s great voice broke into the romantic moment. “Oyay! Oyay!” When he had the crowds full attention, he continued, “The time for this year’s handfastings has arrived! All who wish to take the temporary vows of trial may step forward now.”
Seven couples came forward to try their hand at a year of commitment, including Grandmother with Gurek and Meallán with the red head from the May pole. The couples were all holding hands or standing with arms around shoulder and hip.
John addressed the group more seriously than he had addressed either of the other groups that had preceded them. “Being handfasted to another person requires a commitment that is at times harder to maintain than that of marriage. To be handfasted, ye agree that ye will spend a year and a day, until the next Beltane celebration, as if ye were a married couple. Ye will share the same bed, the same roof, the same finances, the same troubles and the same joys. In all ways, including your interactions with all others, ye will conduct yourself as a married person would, for the entire year. Regardless of whether yer year will lead ye to the marriage broom or to the breaking broom, ye must endure this state for the year, come what may.
“Not all couples who undertake the handfasting in joy find that the joy remains with them after the year and a day has passed. This is why earlier today we had the opportunity to celebrate the breaking of a bond that was harmful. At the next Beltane, ye will be given the opportunity to further your commitment or to put aside something that is not beneficial. Either way you choose, ye will be greeted happily and with love by the community that surrounds ye and we will support and accept yer decisions.”
John took the time now to address each couple as he had previously, calling each person by name and offering a pleasant bit of congratulations and well wishes. He stopped when he reached Grandmother and Gurek and held his arms wide. “Láidáin and Gurek! Though I had seen ye sharing a roof with my own eyes, I was not expecting the pleasure of yer presence in this group. My fool’s heart swells to see ye both so happy. But with this open admittance of yer love, I believe that we must call Council with regard to filling the position of Steward of the House, should ye choose to leave it behind and remain in married bliss, as my beautiful wife and I do.” John pinched his wife’s ample behind as she passed behind him and she laughed and swatted playfully at his hand.
Grandmother nodded gravely to John. “Call the Council, my dear old friend, for I do not expect to see this year’s broom again. I would have a formal decision for my successor before my year and a day expire.”
John clapped his great meaty hands together to signal an announcement was to be made. “Oyay! The Lady Steward of the House on the Hill has decided to commit herself for a year and a day to the good blacksmith and priest, Gurek Gillpatrick! Should she jump the marriage broom next year, we will need a new Steward to ascend to the top of the hill. After this happy ceremony, I call Council to the pole to discuss.”
The crowd shouted encouragement to Grandmother who blushed a bit, but was smiling broadly as she looked at Gurek and squeezed his hand. John continued to speak to each of the people who accepted the call to handfasting. As he finished with the last couple, he raised his arms to the sky to begin the binding words of the ceremony. Before he was able to speak, a woman’s voice interrupted him from the edge of the crowd.
“John! We ask a boon of ye, afore ye begin!” Pushing through the crowd were a man and woman with slightly nervous but determined looks on their faces.
John’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Devor Driscol and Fhionn Moreton! I’ll be blessed! When ye did not appear earlier in the day I thought I’d not see either of ye this year. Yer late for both the marriage broom and the breaking broom!”
Fhionn reached out to hold Devor’s hand in his. “Aye, John. We purposely missed both of the ceremonies as we’ve been arguin’ day in and day out as to whether we wanted to break or bind. Even as near as this mornin’ we could’na decide.”
Devor picked up the conversation where he left off. “That is why we ask a boon of ye. We know it’s not much done, but we’d like to spend another year and a day trying out a marriage between us.”
John eyed them both skeptically. “And what makes ye think that ye’ll be any more successful this time around than ye were last year?”
The couple looked at each other, with laughing smiles. Fhionn explained, “we had a rough start as neither of us was what the other was expecting and being married was not at all as easy as we had thought. Durin’ the long winter, I think we both expected to be jumpin’ the breakin’ broom today, but then we began to talk and make changes in ourselves. Now we are not yet satisfied that this is everything we want out of a romance, but we are also not yet satisfied that it is not.”
Devor blushed but looked John straight in the eye as she spoke. “Now that we are beginning to learn how to please each other, in more ways than one, we would like to spend another year.”
John grinned his answer and wrapped both of them in a giant bear hug. “Of course ye can have another year! The handfasting was designed for just such as this; it’s not required that you marry or break if you need more time. I’m glad to see that ye’re not being hasty in making either decision. If ye want, ye can continue to handfast every year until you die!” His laugh boomed loud and the crowd joined him in his delight. Smiling with relief the couple stepped into the line of participants.
John addressed the now eight pairs of men and women. “Ladies, do ye agree to spend a year and a day in the bed of yer man, with all yer words, actions and deeds behaving as a married woman? Will ye put food on his table, milk his cows, wash and mend his undergarments no matter how soiled, pleasure his bed and accept as offerings from the God and Goddess any children that might healthily result of this union?”
All the women happily shouted their agreement with John.
“Lords, do you agree to spend a year and a day in the bed of yer woman, with all your words, actions and deeds behaving as a married man? Will ye plant and hunt to keep her fed, chop and lug firewood in the winter, understand the womanly need for fancy ribbons on dresses, pleasure her bed and accept as offerings from the God and Goddess any children that might healthily result of this union?”
The men all cheered their assent to John’s stipulations.
“Men, put yer left hand over your woman’s right hand and hold yer hands out to the center of the circle for the binding ribbons to be tied.” Ursa called to the group, bringing out one last spool of red ribbon. Wrapping the spool around each pair of hands three times, she tied the ribbon tightly and then cut the length used from the common spool until all eight couples hands were bound together by the bright red ribbon.
Ursa wrapped her arm around her husband’s big waist as she concluded the ceremony. “Now that ye have been bound, ye are unable to untie or cut yer cord until ye have consummated the vows ye just took. And for those who must answer the Council call, ye may have to be bound for quite a while!” She grinned teasingly at Grandmother and Gurek who laughed and kissed, displaying their ribbon bound hand to the cheering crowd.
Claudius had borrowed a set of clothes from Gurek that were better suited to the climate and terrain than his flimsy wrap and broken sandals. He looked luscious in a dark blue and green striped tartan kilt and a moss green full sleeved, open necked shirt. Gurek was at least a head shorter than Claudius so the kilt was a wee bit short, revealing his well formed legs and an inch or two of thigh.
Once we reached the beach, the sun had fully crested and was halfway to dusk. I had not been to the ocean since Beltane last year so I spent the late afternoon chasing waves and collecting shells, temporarily released from shadowing Grandmother. Later that evening Gurek and Claudius collected piles of driftwood and started a blazing fire to chase away the darkness.
We slept under the clear chilled sky just beyond the tide line, the almost full moon lighting the beach enough so it looked as if morning was dawning. I lay awake for hours, listening to the rhythmic sound of the tide and counting the stars until my eyes drifted shut. If I dreamed that night, I have no memory of it, only of sleeping soundly, curled into my cloak until morning. The next morning, we were awakened by the shrill cries of the seagulls hustling for our supply of food.
Beltane had dawned crisp and clear with fine misty dew draped over the trees that were just beyond the surf and the barest of mist lingering close to the dampened sand at the edge of the tide line. As the sun rose, the morning warmed from the night’s gentle chill into a pleasantly warm spring day; today would not be so hot as to be uncomfortable or dangerous, but would keep us all satisfied wearing our new, brightly colored spring clothes. Grandmother and I stepped into the woods to don the new dresses that had been designed to make ourselves look like the riot of flowers that were blooming on every available surface. Grandmother’s short sleeved dress was a pale purple, the color of lilacs or the inside of the crocus and flowed in wide folds from under her growing bosom to her ankles. Mine was the daffodil yellow dress I had struggled so hard to make during my winter alone before Grandmother had arrived. I had not grown much since I had cut and designed the dress with the exception of my own growing bosom which swelled against the fabric and threatened to spill out if I moved too much. Though I would be shadowing Grandmother and not participating in the partnering rituals of the day, I felt pleased that though I had not planned the dress to be provocative, it would surely draw a gaze or two.
We returned to the beach to find that Gurek and Claudius had heated some cured meat over the coals from the previous evening’s fire and made some oatmeal. I was not disappointed to note that Claudius’ eyes did indeed stray to my almost exposed chest. Shortly after we had eaten our breakfast and thrown the remains to the waiting seagulls, we began to hear more voices than those of the gulls.
Singularly and in groups people began arriving on the beach, flocking to our already burning fire and setting up camp sites in a crescent shape behind the fire pit. As the sun rose to mid morning and the tide dipped towards low we heard the beginnings of a loud cry from the paths in the woods. The children that had been playing on the beach turned like the flock of gulls they had been chasing and headed straight for the woods, cheering and calling with wild abandon.
From out of the paths in the woods, John Woodsman strode forth in a hooded, brown ceremonial robe hoisting a twenty foot, flower-topped pole over one shoulder. Layers of ribbons wound round the pole from previous year’s Beltane celebrations. The sheer quantity of woven ribbon bulged out from the pole and doubled the girth of the naked pole. Ursa and John had placed a pair of matching floral wreaths on the top of the pole and Ursa was carrying a basket of ribbons spooled on small pieces of wood.
The tide was still receding so John brought the pole just above the edge of the water line to give everyone a chance to dance as close to the ocean as they could. Everyone who had gathered on the beach clustered around John and Ursa as Gurek and several of the other men dug a deep hole in the sand for the pole so it would stand sturdily as the dancers wove round repeatedly. When the hole had been dug deeply enough to support the top-heavy pole John bellowed “Hup!” and planted the base of the pole in the wet sand. Children scurried to scoop piles of wet sand with hands and feet into the hole and both men and women packed it tightly around the pole until it was standing tall and steady on the beach against the cerulean blue sky.
Grandmother walked to the May pole, splashing her bare feet in the gentle surf like a small child. Gurek had followed her and stood just outside the reach of the lapping waves, watching her intently with a wide, proud grin. I joined her, letting the chilly water lap at my toes and dampen the bottom hem of my dress.
John bellowed to all who were on the beach, though few were far enough to require his booming bray. “Oyay! Oyay! Weddings at the pole! Step forward if you’ve done your time and still want more!” The crowd around him laughed appreciatively at his joke and dutifully three couples stepped out of the mass and stood next to John, each couple holding hands. John nodded with satisfaction.
“Else and Seamus; good to see you both still smiling. What with the wild way ye started last year we all wondered if ye’d make it through the year without one killing the other! Though there were bets on who would do the killing and who would make it into a cairn, we’re glad to see that none of us were correct.” The crowd laughed again as the delighted young couple playfully pushed each other then kissed passionately.
“Aohden and Laisrian,” he paused to inspect Laisrian’s pregnant belly. “I see that the Gods have favored yer union with a blessed child. May yer boon be strong and healthy and yer birthing easy.” Aohden nodded his thanks and placed a hand protectively on Laisrian’s belly as she grinned from ear to ear.
“Kevin and Berriona? Really?” He laughed loud and long, throwing his head back in the characteristic gesture of mirth I had come to know and love. “I must say I am surprised. If I recall correctly, neither of ye was pleased with yer pairing last year, but both were willing to celebrate in the name of the God and Goddess, even if ye did not find yer bed with yer intended partner. None of us saw ye afterward and we all assumed that ye had such a horrible time together that ye left for home at earliest light. Now I can see that perhaps we didn’t see ye because ye stayed longer in the groves than the rest!” Both of them stood taller and prouder as they looked longingly at each other. I could see in their eyes the kind of devotion that Grandmother and Gurek shared.
“We didna see either of ye at the handfasting ritual last year though. Have ye been properly witnessed to yer year and a day?”
“Aye, sir. We were duly witnessed by our parents and grandparents on the day after the Beltane gatherers dispersed.” Kevin stepped forward and held out a folded piece of parchment paper to John. John opened the crinkly paper and read what was written on the inside.
“Yer good Grandmother took the time to commit the date to paper for us, and all of your elders have affixed their seals to the bottom of the page. Though ye are a day early for the handfasting contract, I suppose we can let ye take part in the celebrations.” He handed the paper back to Kevin with an exaggerated wink. “Well now, if there’s none else to be wed,” John paused dramatically as if waiting for a last minute decision from someone in the crowd, “I suppose I’ll have to be doing my duty as the marriage priest for this year.”
“As you all know well, marriage is not to be undertaken lightly. It is a sacred union, a mirroring of the eternal partnering of the God and Goddess. Ye have all spent your handfasting time, living as husband and wife, wife and husband. Ladies, do you agree that ye wish to spend more than a year and a day in the bed of yer man? Will ye put food on his table, milk his goats, wash and mend his undergarments no matter how soiled, birth his children and pleasure his bed?”
Two of the women replied with a loud and ringing “I will.” Feisty Else added on an exclaimed “Ye betcha!” to the promise of fealty. The crowd cheered lustily, banging drums, ringing bells and clapping hands.
“Lords, do ye agree that ye wish to spend more than a year and a day in the bed of yer woman? Will ye plant and hunt to keep her fed, chop and lug firewood in the winter, understand the womanly need for fancy ribbons on dresses, sire her children and pleasure her bed?”
All three men virtually yelled their answers to John as again the crowd hooted and shouted; banging on the instruments they had brought with them.
John’s voice rang above the crowd’s ruckus, “Family of celebrants; we have six more married people among us! Strike up the tune and lay the broom!”
From out of the crowd, Ursa brought a wide whisked broom made of flowers from the first blooming fields as the joyous wedding song sprang forth from half a dozen flutes simultaneously. Holding hands, the couples skipped and danced sun-wise three times around last year’s woven May pole, then leaped like deer over the broom Ursa had placed on the ground. When all three couples had jumped the broom, they joined hands alternating men and women and wound a circle dance in the middle of the cheering and clapping crowd. As both song and dance circled round to the end, they partnered with their new spouses and kissed quite passionately amid much applause until the end of the song.
The excited congratulatory chatter persisted until John raised his voice over the din in a bellow that turned all attention good naturedly towards him. “Now lords and ladies; which of ye thought that a year would do ye good and found instead that ye’d be better off dancing the pole with someone else? Step forward now if ye seek to companionably break the bonds of handfasting that ye took on the beach last spring.”
This time only two pairs stepped forward from the crowd. Neither couple was holding hands and one couple were standing in postures that looked almost defensive; arms crossed at their chests and backs facing each other. John nodded and grinned with as much satisfaction as he had at the married couples.
“Beirnis and Conchubbar,” he addressed the more amiable of the two pairs. “I’m glad to see that ye took the time to test that childhood infatuation. Not all young playmates are destined to stay their lives under one roof.” They both nodded their assent and looked at each other with a gaze of friendship mingled with sorrow’s wisdom.
“Alannah and Bercnan, ‘tis sad indeed to see ill will between ye. But that is indeed the purpose of the year and a day; it allows only enough time to know if the match is good, but not enough time to truly ruin the heart. Perhaps the distance will allow ye to be friends again later.”
“Now then, it is time to publicly disperse the temporary vows you took last year, since they are not satisfactory to body or soul. There can be no argument brooked by this separation. Both parties agreed to the initial trial and now both parties agree to the dissolution. If any properties or material goods were purchased jointly and need to be parceled out, the couples may see the good Kevin Abernathy for a fair decision after the renouncement of the vows. As we have all trusted Kevin’s decisions in the past and known them to be fair, his decisions in the present and future will be respected and utilized.”
John turned from addressing the crowd to speak directly to the four people in front of him. “Ladies, do ye agree that ye no longer wish to share house and home with this man, and that ye will bear him no ill will, nor intentionally do harm to him or his family in the future because of this separation”
Beirnis nodded and uttered a quiet “I do agree” but Alanna virtually shouted her assent.
“Lords, do ye agree that ye no longer wish to share house and home with this woman, and that ye will bear her no ill will, nor intentionally do harm to her or her family in the future because of this separation?”
Both Bercnan and Conchubbar firmly stated their agreement, but as he did Conchubbar turned to look sadly at Beirnis, a sigh following his confirmation.
John raised both hands to the clear blue sky. “We have all heard that these two pairs no longer wish to be bound together and that they have assented not to bear the burden of ill will against the other party. None here or abroad shall find any reason to criticize their decisions either during the vowed year, or now that they have returned to the list of eligible dancers. We celebrate their fine intellects in knowing their hearts needs and desires and support them in this new stage of life as we did before and will again.” The crowd cheered again, banging on drums and blowing shrill notes on the reed flutes.
As he had for the married couples, John bellowed, “Strike up the tune and lay down the broom!” Ursa was ready and brought forth a broom that was dried and brown, looking brittle in the bright morning’s light. She laid it carefully on the ground as a cheerful reel was started on the flutes. The four separated people grasped hands, alternating male and female as the married couples had done and danced widdershins around the broom. The reel became faster and faster and just when it seemed none could go any faster, the former couples broke out of the circle dance and stepped forward as a group to crush last year’s now fragile marriage broom. The twigs of the handle broke with loud snaps and cracks and the carefully dried floral collection from the top of the broom virtually disintegrated. Tiny pieces of browned flowers were caught by the playful ocean breeze and spread across the beach.
All four of the people dancing called out triumphantly as they smashed the old broom. When they were done, all were finally smiling. Beirnis and Conchubbar grasped each other in a bear hug of friendship and with a sheepish but satisfied grin, Alanna and Bercnan grasped forearms in a classic symbol of friendship. The crowd cheered again, wild and unruly.
“Now then,” John’s huge voice boomed above the cheering, “it is time for these newly separated folk to join the weaving dance and proclaim them-selves single yet again. We give them the privilege of choosing the first ribbons of the spring!” The crowd cheered for them again as they gathered around Ursa and her basket of ribbons, each one taking a spool of shining ribbon.
John bellowed in his giant’s booming voice, “All those who wish to dance the May Pole should fetch their ribbons to be attached to the top of the pole by our newly wedded friends.” People all over the beach flocked to the pole. Claudius hung back from the crowd and approached Grandmother and I where we stood, a short distance away from the ribbons and pole.
“Will you be joining the dancing Láidáin?” He asked Grandmother, looking over his shoulder at the gathering throng.
Grandmother shook her head and smiled indulgently at him. “Not this time, my sweet young friend. My field has already been planted, so I leave the dancing to the young and still fertile. You’re welcome to join the dancing – you don’t need to be local or druid trained to join in; all you have to do is know how to go over and under.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her and repeated the tail end of her phrase, “over and under?”
“The men have the red ribbons and the women have the white. All the men face widdershins and the women face sun-wise. When the music starts, you begin to walk in the direction that you’re facing. When you encounter the first woman, you duck under her ribbon and continue walking. At the next woman, you let her duck under your ribbon. Then you duck under the next woman’s ribbon and so on over and under until you all run out of ribbon. This is often the first introduction that the young men and women have with each other and often it is from the glances made at this dance that the couples know who they want to be paired with after the dark falls.
“All of the ribbons are different lengths, but two of the ribbons are longer than the others so that one man and one woman are left at the end. They lead the choosing of partners for the remainder of the festivities, alternating between a man picking his woman and a woman picking her man and sealing the choosing with a kiss. Each person picked has the opportunity to refuse the one who chose them by presenting their cheek to be kissed instead of their lips. Then the picked person will return to the group in hopes that they will be able to pick their heart’s desire, or be picked by them. The choosing continues in order from the longest ribbons down to the shortest.”
Claudius glanced at me, standing slightly behind Grandmother. “Will Marei be allowed to join in the dancing? Perhaps she could lead me in the dance.” His neck flushed slightly as his eyes lingered slightly on me.
My heart thumped once in my chest as our eyes met. Did he find me attractive? Was he implying that he would want to partner me in the dance or perhaps in the festivities in the dark later that night? All at once I became impatient with the constraints of the shadow role and I ached to be allowed the freedom to dance and flirt and know the touch of a man. Instead I knew I would have to stay close at the side of my Grandmother and experience the Beltane dancing and merry making with only as much enthusiasm as she could muster. I sighed and stared at my figuratively hobbled feet burrowing into the sand.
I chafed at the length of time that remained until I could be free of the shadowy bonds and walk alone, be free to do what I wanted and with whom, regardless of what Grandmother was doing. Grudgingly I had to admit that I understood the reason behind the shadow period and that abiding by the training rules of the Sacred Wanderer was well worth whatever sacrifice I had to make. But right now, with the potential for obtaining that which I desired directly in front of me, it was agony to only watch and wait. I sighed again. I suppose the irritation of watching and waiting when you wanted something had value too; how else was I to learn patience? At that moment I was not sure patience was a virtue I cared to possess.
With a twinkle in her eye Grandmother shook her head again, looking back and forth between Claudius’ flushed face and my obvious irritation. “Marei is bound as a shadow for another two rituals time. Until the new moon after that second ritual she must remain silent, tied to the Steward’s actions, witnessing but not directly participating except through the Steward’s participation.”
Claudius cleared his throat and looked as if he would say more, but then Grandmother gave Claudius a playful shove on the shoulder. “Go and dance. What would be better than to experience the ways of a different culture first hand, instead of through long dead tales of war and glory?”
With one more furtive look at me, he shrugged and a timid smile played across his full lips as he looked longingly at the dancers. At another teasing push on his shoulder he finally crossed the sand towards the basket of ribbons Ursa held. In a flurry of good natured teasing, the women and men picked spools of ribbon from the basket. The newly married couples hoisted the woman on top of the man’s shoulders so Else, Laisrian and Berriona could attach the ribbons with metal pins to the top of the pole. Amid the throng I caught a glimpse of Meallán, the young wheat thresher I had noticed at the Samhain festival last year, and of Little John Woodsman, old enough now to dance round the pole.
The dancers lined up, men and women facing each other; the women in brightly colored dresses and most of the men were wearing nothing but their best kilts. Several of the older people from the local villages had brought instruments with them, Grandmother included. She struck up a merry but slow-tempo jig on a high pitched reed flute. Within moments, the well known tune had been echoed on other wind instruments and several of the drummers had added an infectious counter rhythm. I had a small hand drum with me that I added to the mix of instruments and voices.
With a curtsey at the men, the women began the dance. Holding their white ribbons high for the men to duck under they each had the chance to fully appraise the physical virtues of the men they encountered. Then as they ducked under the purposefully low red ribbons of the men, the women’s bodily charms threatened to spill out of tight bodices. The men leered good naturedly and the women laughed, their light giggles raising above the sound of the music.
Claudius was hesitant at first, barely meeting the eyes of the young women he passed as he wove over and under the white ribbons. But after he became comfortable with the rhythmic pattern he began to relax and a smile crept onto his face. One of the women, a seamstress named Maeve who had attended all of the rituals I had been to and been priestess of the Beltane ritual last year, had been eyeing him as she approached. As he passed under her ribbon she reached out and smacked him flirtingly on the bottom. In surprise his head shot up, eyebrows raised almost to his hair line as he looked towards the woman on his left.
I stifled a laugh at the expression of shock written on his face, but then swallowed it when I saw her wink boldly at him. Until that moment, I had not entertained the notion that by participating in the dance, Claudius was offering himself as an available man and might actually accept the advances of another woman. I had naively thought that he would only dance and then spend the night in the company of myself, Grandmother and Gurek as always. A band of anger tightened the muscles in my forehead as I considered the implications of Maeve’s brazen actions.
Inside me a fiery debate raged; on one hand, Claudius was an attractive man who deserved to be flirted with, by many women. Maeve obviously had good taste, so she couldn’t be all bad. Claudius had every right to want to participate fully in the rituals of Beltane; didn’t I also long to fully know the night’s rituals? And I was not able to take part on my own in the rituals, leaving me exempt from the night pairings; I had no claim to Claudius.
But oh how I wanted to lay claim to him. Watching him dance round the circle, laughing down at Maeve as she teased him all I could feel was a burning desire to be Maeve; to have it be me whose eyes he was timidly daring to seek, even when I was not beside him. I wanted to be the one who would lay with him, naked under the stars, exploring the essence of divinity merging.
As I mindlessly drummed, my mind began to wander and I pictured myself dancing around the circle next spring. I was looking for Claudius, ducking and weaving around and under the red ribbons of the other men in the circle. As I came around near the group of drummers I could see him; his eyes met mine and burned into my soul, labeling me forever as belonging to him. He passed so near to me as we danced that I could feel the brush of his muscled thigh against my hip. “Tonight” he whispered as we passed. My heart began to thrum in time with the steady beat as I imagined that our two ribbons were the longest and we stood together at the end of the dance. I could almost feel the press of his lips on mine as in my mind he leaned in to kiss me and seal the promise of meeting later, in the groves, in the darkness.
My inner reveries were broken by a loud cheer. I opened my eyes to see that the ribbons had been fully wound as I had indulged my fantasies. At the center of the circle were Meallán and Maeve. Traditionally the man was allowed to make his choice first and Meallán did not hesitate to choose a broad shouldered red-head with unruly short hair who immediately signaled her pleasure at being chosen by kissing him full and long on the mouth. Maeve also did not hesitate and pointed straight away to the man she had been eyeing for the entire dance; Claudius.
This time his entire head flushed bright pink in embarrassment or excitement or both and he stammered a bit, taking one step back and away from the group. Maeve laughed throatily, tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder and parted the crowd to reach him.
“Well, lad?” She questioned him cheekily, arms akimbo and one hip thrust out to the side provocatively. “I get first pickin’s and ye’re one whose taste I do not yet know by action or reputation.” Her eyes raked him up and down with a practiced measuring glance. “I can see that ye’re a foine specimen too, quite ‘andsome to look at and a wee bit timid, which I find right endearing. Will ye join me in the private games later this e’en?”
Claudius gulped and looked at Grandmother who nodded encouragingly. Keeping his eyes wide open, he leaned forward and kissed the saucy brunette on the lips. My heart fell as I watched him kiss another woman after I had imagined so vividly the feeling of his lips on mine. Unbidden tears rose in my eyes and I swallowed hard around a thick lump in my throat, forcing the emotional response to abate. I would not cry; Claudius had every right to make merry with anyone he chose and I had no right to feel badly about it.
Though I tried to hide it, Grandmother still saw the slight dampness that misted over my eyes and with her eyes full of compassion she turned to speak to me. “Marei, you will have your turn, both to choose your heart’s desire and to dance round the May pole. I know it’s hard for you to watch now and not participate, but you will get the chance to be the woman you envy.”
I wished now more than at any other time that I could question Grandmother about those cryptic remarks. Did she mean that I would have my chance with Claudius, or within the circle, or both? I mulled over the possible meanings to her statement and vowed that I would add this question to my list of questions to ask when my time of silence had ended.
The group of dancers had all paired up successfully, to the delight of all involved. Already the group was breaking off into the chosen pairs and excitedly bringing their evening’s intended back to family members and friends for introductions. As Claudius led Maeve by the hand to where Grandmother and I were standing I wiped away any stray traces of tears and swallowed hard to present a neutral face to them both.
As they neared, Maeve recognized Grandmother and dropped Claudius’ hand to give her a hug. “Láidáin! Is this foine young man with ye then? Ye’re lookin’ right foine yerself, all rounded at the belly. Is it Gurek’s doin’? We’ve not seen ‘im in town this past winter long.”
Grandmother smiled broadly and nodded answering her questions in order. “Yes, Maeve; this young man Claudius is a visitor to the House on the Hill. He’s a historian from Rome interested in knowing more about our ways and practices.” Claudius’ face registered surprise that she had not told Maeve the real reason for his visit. “I had invited him to join us for Beltane but I see that it’s your invitation he has truly accepted. I trust that you’ll explain fully to him the reasons for all that we do here today in a way I am not able.”
Grandmother raised her eyebrow mischievously at Maeve and they both laughed with delight as Claudius blushed bright pink at the implication. “He’s a right timid feller, ain’t ‘e? I think I’ll ‘ave a grand time givin’ this quite attractive visitor a lesson or two.” As Maeve spoke she both winked at Claudius and placed her hand possessively on his bottom, giving it a teasing squeeze. Even I had a hard time holding in a laugh at the astonished look on Claudius’ face as she kept repeatedly handling him and openly discussing their upcoming intimacy.
Grandmother interrupted the laughter, answering Maeve’s second question with her hand on her rounded belly. “And yes, my current fruit is from Gurek’s seeds; we’re to be wed after the babe is born.”
I had been with Grandmother and Gurek when they had consulted the augury to determine if the child could be kept and if they could join in marriage, so it was not surprising for me to hear that they would be wed. Maeve, however, clapped excitedly like a young child and virtually squealed with glee, impulsively hugging the older woman tightly.
“Láidáin! Tis a miracle, this is! We’ve all though ye’d live and die a-lonely atop that great white hill, serving the ‘Ouse and seekers. And Gurek; ‘e’s far too ‘andsome a man to ‘ave lived without a woman in ‘is bed for so long. Tis a right foine pleasure to ‘ear that ye’ll both be findin’ company and love, finally!” She took a step back, still holding tightly to Grandmother’s small shoulders. “What does that mean for the ‘Ouse’s Steward now? Will ye retire the post and live down a-town with Gurek? ‘Ave you read the signs?”
Grandmother nodded again, a brief shadowed look haunting the hollows of her face. “I have; we both have – Gurek was with me when I read the augury. We were permitted both joys – the mixed blessing and sorrow of retiring my position as Steward to become a wife, and the joy of birthing the baby we both longed for in our advancing years…”
“Aye, ye must be at an age where yer moons are not comin’ as steady as afore,” Maeve interrupted. She laughed heartily, a booming ring of a laugh that was almost as loud and infectious as John’s. “I must say, I won’t be disappointed when my moon ceases flowing and I can settle down to being a crone. But fer now, I intend to put all my foine womanly skills to use. No need in wasting away the years of motherly hips by lyin’ lonely in me bed!” She cast a lascivious glance at Claudius, who was still standing awkwardly beside her and ran her hand slowly up his arm.
Bemused as Claudius squirmed under Maeve’s forward attention, I wondered if he had ever had a woman respond to him as Maeve was; perhaps the brassy brunette would be good for his ego. Certainly I did not begrudge her the choice; I had to agree that Claudius was quite an attractive visitor. When I thought no one was looking I ran my eyes longingly up and down his well formed frame, savoring the sight of him in the more traditional clothing of my people. I wondered briefly if he was regimental under the kilt or if he had chosen to bind his parts in a cloth as some of the younger men had taken to doing.
Maeve caught me staring and laughed conspirationally at the desire I had briefly allowed to show. “Seems this wee lass a’hind you shares me opinion of our friend’s foine figure. She was just givin’ ‘im the up-en-down as if she’d like to eat ‘im up. She’s not so young as to be forbidden from the dance – is she yer ‘prentice then? Servin’ a year’s time in the shadow of yer movements? Are ye trainin’ her to replace ye at the ‘Ouse?”
I missed Grandmother’s reply as the blood rushed to my face. In horror at having my feelings revealed so casually I turned to look at Claudius, sure that I would find him contemplating the ground in that way he did when he was uncomfortable in a situation. Instead I found him gazing wide eyed at me, a tender, sweet smile curving the corners of his lips. As our eyes met, a surge of lightning’s wild current passed between us and I could not look away from his deep green eyes. I felt certain I had never noticed the exact color of his eyes before, how they were light in the center like young fresh leaves and darkening to a deep piney ring on the outer edge.
Though I did not see it happen, Grandmother told me later that Maeve noticed the look that passed between us and let it pass with a knowing smile. What I did notice was that she put her arm around his waist possessively and broke the gaze by pressing against him. I felt bereft without his eyes to stare into and my heart was still beating wildly in my chest like a frightened rabbit in a snare. Just then Gurek approached Grandmother, draping his arm around her shoulders and kissing her affectionately in the crook of the neck. “M’khindẻǽ, the time for the handfasting draws nigh.” His brows knit in tenderness and concern. “Are you sure that you want this as I do?”
Grandmother turned her head and they kissed lingeringly. “M’khindẻǽ, I want this more than you could know. I am so certain, after all our many years serving each other within the confines of our duties, I long only now to serve you in pleasure. If our custom was not wise in expecting the handfasting first, I would marry you today.”
Gurek’s smile shamed the bright spring sun and to my amazement, his eyes filled with tears. “I love you, Láidáin, and will love you for as long as I live.”
John’s great voice broke into the romantic moment. “Oyay! Oyay!” When he had the crowds full attention, he continued, “The time for this year’s handfastings has arrived! All who wish to take the temporary vows of trial may step forward now.”
Seven couples came forward to try their hand at a year of commitment, including Grandmother with Gurek and Meallán with the red head from the May pole. The couples were all holding hands or standing with arms around shoulder and hip.
John addressed the group more seriously than he had addressed either of the other groups that had preceded them. “Being handfasted to another person requires a commitment that is at times harder to maintain than that of marriage. To be handfasted, ye agree that ye will spend a year and a day, until the next Beltane celebration, as if ye were a married couple. Ye will share the same bed, the same roof, the same finances, the same troubles and the same joys. In all ways, including your interactions with all others, ye will conduct yourself as a married person would, for the entire year. Regardless of whether yer year will lead ye to the marriage broom or to the breaking broom, ye must endure this state for the year, come what may.
“Not all couples who undertake the handfasting in joy find that the joy remains with them after the year and a day has passed. This is why earlier today we had the opportunity to celebrate the breaking of a bond that was harmful. At the next Beltane, ye will be given the opportunity to further your commitment or to put aside something that is not beneficial. Either way you choose, ye will be greeted happily and with love by the community that surrounds ye and we will support and accept yer decisions.”
John took the time now to address each couple as he had previously, calling each person by name and offering a pleasant bit of congratulations and well wishes. He stopped when he reached Grandmother and Gurek and held his arms wide. “Láidáin and Gurek! Though I had seen ye sharing a roof with my own eyes, I was not expecting the pleasure of yer presence in this group. My fool’s heart swells to see ye both so happy. But with this open admittance of yer love, I believe that we must call Council with regard to filling the position of Steward of the House, should ye choose to leave it behind and remain in married bliss, as my beautiful wife and I do.” John pinched his wife’s ample behind as she passed behind him and she laughed and swatted playfully at his hand.
Grandmother nodded gravely to John. “Call the Council, my dear old friend, for I do not expect to see this year’s broom again. I would have a formal decision for my successor before my year and a day expire.”
John clapped his great meaty hands together to signal an announcement was to be made. “Oyay! The Lady Steward of the House on the Hill has decided to commit herself for a year and a day to the good blacksmith and priest, Gurek Gillpatrick! Should she jump the marriage broom next year, we will need a new Steward to ascend to the top of the hill. After this happy ceremony, I call Council to the pole to discuss.”
The crowd shouted encouragement to Grandmother who blushed a bit, but was smiling broadly as she looked at Gurek and squeezed his hand. John continued to speak to each of the people who accepted the call to handfasting. As he finished with the last couple, he raised his arms to the sky to begin the binding words of the ceremony. Before he was able to speak, a woman’s voice interrupted him from the edge of the crowd.
“John! We ask a boon of ye, afore ye begin!” Pushing through the crowd were a man and woman with slightly nervous but determined looks on their faces.
John’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Devor Driscol and Fhionn Moreton! I’ll be blessed! When ye did not appear earlier in the day I thought I’d not see either of ye this year. Yer late for both the marriage broom and the breaking broom!”
Fhionn reached out to hold Devor’s hand in his. “Aye, John. We purposely missed both of the ceremonies as we’ve been arguin’ day in and day out as to whether we wanted to break or bind. Even as near as this mornin’ we could’na decide.”
Devor picked up the conversation where he left off. “That is why we ask a boon of ye. We know it’s not much done, but we’d like to spend another year and a day trying out a marriage between us.”
John eyed them both skeptically. “And what makes ye think that ye’ll be any more successful this time around than ye were last year?”
The couple looked at each other, with laughing smiles. Fhionn explained, “we had a rough start as neither of us was what the other was expecting and being married was not at all as easy as we had thought. Durin’ the long winter, I think we both expected to be jumpin’ the breakin’ broom today, but then we began to talk and make changes in ourselves. Now we are not yet satisfied that this is everything we want out of a romance, but we are also not yet satisfied that it is not.”
Devor blushed but looked John straight in the eye as she spoke. “Now that we are beginning to learn how to please each other, in more ways than one, we would like to spend another year.”
John grinned his answer and wrapped both of them in a giant bear hug. “Of course ye can have another year! The handfasting was designed for just such as this; it’s not required that you marry or break if you need more time. I’m glad to see that ye’re not being hasty in making either decision. If ye want, ye can continue to handfast every year until you die!” His laugh boomed loud and the crowd joined him in his delight. Smiling with relief the couple stepped into the line of participants.
John addressed the now eight pairs of men and women. “Ladies, do ye agree to spend a year and a day in the bed of yer man, with all yer words, actions and deeds behaving as a married woman? Will ye put food on his table, milk his cows, wash and mend his undergarments no matter how soiled, pleasure his bed and accept as offerings from the God and Goddess any children that might healthily result of this union?”
All the women happily shouted their agreement with John.
“Lords, do you agree to spend a year and a day in the bed of yer woman, with all your words, actions and deeds behaving as a married man? Will ye plant and hunt to keep her fed, chop and lug firewood in the winter, understand the womanly need for fancy ribbons on dresses, pleasure her bed and accept as offerings from the God and Goddess any children that might healthily result of this union?”
The men all cheered their assent to John’s stipulations.
“Men, put yer left hand over your woman’s right hand and hold yer hands out to the center of the circle for the binding ribbons to be tied.” Ursa called to the group, bringing out one last spool of red ribbon. Wrapping the spool around each pair of hands three times, she tied the ribbon tightly and then cut the length used from the common spool until all eight couples hands were bound together by the bright red ribbon.
Ursa wrapped her arm around her husband’s big waist as she concluded the ceremony. “Now that ye have been bound, ye are unable to untie or cut yer cord until ye have consummated the vows ye just took. And for those who must answer the Council call, ye may have to be bound for quite a while!” She grinned teasingly at Grandmother and Gurek who laughed and kissed, displaying their ribbon bound hand to the cheering crowd.
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