The Temple of the Sun

by Moyra Caldecott

  She decided not to rise to this and asked instead, politely, if she might have the day off work to visit them.

  He did not give her a straight answer to this, but turned to the whole class and said, ‘This day there is a special ceremony, the inauguration of a new priest. We are expected to attend. We will take positions on the west of the avenue, half way between the Sanctuary and the Sacred Circle. When the procession has passed us, we will enter the avenue and follow it as far as the earth ring. It is our privilege to stand upon the ridge and watch the ceremony from there.’

  ‘Do the ordinary villagers see the ceremony too?’ Kyra asked a neighbouring student in a whisper.

  ‘No. It is a great honour to be allowed to witness an inauguration. It is because it is part of our training in the Mysteries that we are permitted.’

  Kyra was sorry about the villagers, but excited that she at least would have a view of it. All thoughts of visiting her brother and Fern went from her mind.

  In making her way with her new friends to their position beside the avenue, she was amazed to see the crowd that had already gathered. The land on either side of the processional Way was filled to bursting point with men, women and children, many of whom looked as though they had been there since the night before. Families had brought food to eat and she saw many a water skin and ale jar handed around.

  She had to cling to the arms of her friends, Vann and Lea, so as not to be separated as they pushed and jostled towards the position their teacher had told them to take up. But, for all the unruliness of the throng, she noticed the processional Way itself, between its tall and sombre standing stones, was kept completely empty. The earth between the stones was as hallowed as that within the circle. She herself dared not put a foot upon it, although she was sorely tempted to, to escape the pressing of the crowd upon her back.

  The procession was to be at noon and she was just feeling tired and bad tempered at the length of the wait, when she heard her name called and she saw her brother Karne pushing through the crowd, carrying Isar upon his shoulders and dragging Fern by her arm behind him.

  ‘Karne!’ she shouted excitedly and flung herself at him.

  In spite of the lack of space they managed to kiss and hug each other satisfactorily. She was amazed how Isar had grown and developed in the short while she had not seen him. He seemed very cheerful to be upon his father’s shoulders above the crowds and banged his little fists upon Karne’s head from time to time as though it were a drum.

  ‘Oh, he is lovely!’ Kyra cried, her eyes quite misty to see them all again.

  Fern hugged her.

  ‘We have missed you so much. Our home is lovely and we long to show it to you. We were talking about you last night and planning how we could possibly see you. Karne hoped we might meet you today, but when I saw the crowds...’ She threw up her hands and laughed.

  It was indeed amazing that they should find each other in such a crowd.

  Kyra remembered her dream and the way her teacher had mocked her for settling so quickly for one simple interpretation. It might simply have been her yearning to see her family again that had made her dream as she did, but in the light of what Fern had just said, it could have just as easily been the flow of thought from them that she had intercepted in her relaxed dream state. On the other hand, they could have been influenced to think and talk about her at that very time because she was dreaming so vividly about them.

  And there was yet another factor to consider in her dream, the interpretation of which seemed to be growing in complexity at every moment: the incredible chance of their meeting in this milling crowd this very day.

  Was this a prophetic dream?

  Or did their mutual longing for each other ‘pull’ them together through the crowds? Did they unknowingly follow a beam of thought as though it were a path?

  * * * *

  Suddenly a hush fell upon the crowd and above it Kyra could hear the clear and haunting notes of many horns blown together in a rising cadence. The sound made a little shiver pass through her body. Even Isar looked in the direction of the horns and stopped his happy gabbling. A little frown gathered on his forehead which gave him a very wise, old look.

  The procession had begun.

  The High Priest, the Lord Guiron, in regalia of great magnificence, walked first. He was almost unrecognisable in his long purple robes, the great collar and crown of gold and jade heavy upon him. His face was like a mask, it was so still and cold. His eyes were gazing straight ahead like stone until he was almost level with them and then Kyra was startled to see his eyes swing to the side and meet instantly and directly those of Isar raised above the crowd on Karne’s shoulders.

  Kyra suddenly felt an icy wind blow from one to the other, and her own flesh caught between them raised goose-pimples with the chill of it.

  But as suddenly as it had happened it was over, and Kyra, looking around, could see no evidence that anyone else had noticed, until she saw Fern weeping and pulling Isar off her husband’s shoulders, pressing his face into her breast and murmuring over him sounds of great comfort but of no meaning.

  Kyra noticed that Fern was shivering too.

  But Karne had not noticed what had happened and was puzzled at his wife’s reaction. When they spoke about it later he said he had been so busy watching the clothes of the priests he had not noticed their eyes and tried to tell the girls that they had imagined it. But his voice did not carry much conviction.

  When Kyra became aware of the procession again she saw priests of every rank in robes of crimson and in gentian, their faces framed in the unfamiliar stiffness of helmet or crown.

  Behind them followed the tall figures of the Spear-lords and their wives, clad in even greater splendour than the priests.

  Then came the horn players and behind them the drummers.

  Further back still a small group of very old priests walked, dressed in simple white robes with no jewellery or finery of any kind, and in their midst walked the young man who was to be inaugurated as priest this day.

  He too was dressed with the greatest simplicity and carried himself with great dignity.

  But Kyra noticed as he passed close to them a little muscle in his cheek was twitching.

  She knew how he must be feeling, and thought to the future when the procession would be for her.

  When he had passed and after allowing a discreet gap to form, the students were led into the avenue to take their part in the procession.

  Just before she was pulled forward by her fellow students Kyra looked back and saw Fern still in tears cradling Isar, and now Karne, aware at last that something was wrong, had his arms about them both and was trying to lead them out of the crowd.

  She longed to stay with them but was pushed forward by the current of her new position in life, and had to leave them behind. As she walked the processional Way her feelings were torn between her old loyalties and her new.

  ‘Karne will look after them,’ she comforted herself at last. He had inner strength as well as muscle, and she knew he loved both Fern and Isar most tenderly.

  * * * *

  The ceremony in the circle took a long time and the students who stood upon the earth bank well away from the action grew restless and began to talk among themselves.

  On seeing Panora moving about quite freely among the honoured members of the ceremony, Kyra turned to Lea and asked why such a little girl of no particular significance was allowed to be among that most exclusive group.

  Lea did not know, but someone who overheard the question leaned forward and joined in the conversation.

  ‘She is no ordinary child,’ he said darkly.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Did you not know that she is the daughter of the Lord Guiron?’

  The man could not help but be pleased with the effect his words had upon his listeners. Several other students crowded round to hear more. Kyra was stunned.

  ‘But the High Priest lives alone!’ one student said.
r />   ‘I have never heard of a wife!’ another added.

  ‘And Panora certainly looks more like a ragged waif than the daughter of a wealthy priest!’

  ‘He has no wife, nor ever had one,’ their informant told them.

  ‘Only a child?’ one student said with a laugh.

  ‘Yes ... and no...’

  The man was obviously enjoying spinning out the mystery.

  ‘How do you mean?’ Kyra demanded.

  ‘Well, she is not a child in the ordinary sense of the word. In fact, she does not really exist in the ordinary sense of the word!’

  Now he had his listeners spellbound.

  ‘Tell us!’ they demanded.

  He told them.

  ‘When Guiron was still a young man, before he became High Priest, he fell in love most deeply, but with no hope of taking her to wife.’

  ‘Priests are allowed to marry,’ someone said, ‘although it is not usual.’

  ‘Aye,’ the man said mysteriously, ‘but only with real women!’

  They gasped.

  ‘He had the misfortune to fall in love with a spirit woman who lived on a lake and was only seen when the mists came down thick upon it.’

  ‘A spirit woman?’

  ‘Aye. As part of his training as priest he had to spend a night alone on the lake, experiencing the dark and the stars. But during the night the mist grew thick and he could not find the shore. He found instead this beautiful spirit woman. She told him she was not of flesh when she could see the way he was gazing at her, but he would not listen and would have her. She tried many ways to fend him off but he used his priestly powers to overwhelm her, it is said, and she bore this child we call Panora.’

  ‘When he was young, you said,’ Kyra mused. ‘Yet Panora is still a young child, certainly not more than fourteen summers, and the Lord Guiron is an old man now.’

  ‘Panora never ages and comes and goes as she pleases. She is more spirit than girl.’

  Kyra could believe it!

  ‘Where is the lake? Where is her mother?’

  ‘No one knows. When he became more powerful as a priest the lake was drained on his order, and the woman has never been seen since.’

  ‘But how is the story known?’ Vann asked. ‘Surely no priest would have been made High Priest if he had such a shameful incident in his past?’

  ‘All I know,’ the man said defensively, ‘is what I have been told by the old villagers who were present when the Lord Guiron became High Priest.’

  ‘So it could be no more than an idle tale?’ Lea said.

  ‘Explain Panora then!’ the man challenged.

  ‘She could be just an ordinary waif.’

  ‘No, she could not. She was found sitting waiting for him at his door, mocking him, when he returned from his inauguration as High Priest, and he looked as though he had seen a ghost. People tried to send the child away, but he said she was to be admitted to his house and no one was to disturb them. Before she went inside, she called out loud and clear to all who were gathered there that she was the daughter of the spirit woman of the lake and the Lord High Priest.

  ‘When she was seen again she avoided answering questions and no more was said about it as the Lord Guiron was held in great respect. But there are some who remembered the night and the day he had been missing on the lake and how wild he had looked on his return. The legend of the spirit woman was well known, and there were some who had wondered if he had encountered her even then, long before Panora’s appearance. When they remembered how he had wandered about distracted and alone on the shores of the lake for a long time and then had insisted the lake was evil and must be drained, Panora’s claim began to seem more real.’

  ‘But Panora is quite plain and the spirit lady was supposed to be so beautiful?’

  ‘She must have been like her mother in some way or he would not have recognized her and looked so horrified!’

  Kyra remembered how strangely Panora seemed to appear and disappear, and the very definite position of privilege she held within the Temple. She could see her now within the circle watching everything that went on.

  ‘She is a waif ... between two worlds...’ Kyra thought, and a twinge of sympathy for the child disturbed her.

  And then she thought of Isar.

  Panora was always with him and she was the daughter of the man whose destiny it was to cross with Isar.

  Fern thought he was safe and far away from Guiron in her new home, but Panora was a constant link with the very danger she was trying to avoid.

  At first she thought to rush to Fern and advise the little family to return north, as far from Guiron as they could. And then she remembered what the High Priest had said: ‘You underestimate the power of destiny.’

  Something had to be worked out between them, either now or later, and there was no escape.

  She would warn Karne to be on guard with Panora, but she would not encourage them to believe that it is possible to escape one’s destiny by moving one’s position on the face of the earth. Something more was required. Something from deep within the two protagonists.

  * * * *

  As the winter progressed, Kyra’s interest in her studies continued to grow. During dream study they learnt how to project images into each others’ sleeping minds as she and the Lords of the Sun had already done to Wardyke in the past. But at that time she had scarcely known what she was doing or how she did it. She learned now how to control her visualizations and their projection, either as direct images or in a kind of symbolic code.

  ‘As you learn to master the art, my children,’ the teacher said to them one day, ‘some of you may reach the point where you can project “cold”, but most of you will never reach beyond the point where it is strength of feeling, passion, that sends the message across and manifests it in another’s mind.’

  Kyra was not sure of the extent of her own powers in the matter, but decided one night to put to use what she had learned for her own ends.

  When she had first come to the Temple of the Sun she had expected to see the young priest from the desert temple as one of the teachers. In the vision she had received of her own arrival and acceptance at the Temple, she had seen him quite clearly with a group of students from his own country surrounding him.

  She had seen his image in the cavern when she had called so desperately for help, but since her arrival at the Temple she had seen no sign of him, nor found anyone among all those she had questioned who had heard of him.

  She knew he was one of the great Lords of the Sun, but she was not sufficiently advanced in her studies to be allowed to attend the lessons on ‘spirit-travelling’ in spite of her early experiences.

  All the students had experienced in one form or another some unusual power before they were called for training, but once they were at the Temple these ‘experiences’ were ignored, and they all started from the beginning, the priesthood claiming, with some justification, that the ‘experiences’ had been uncontrolled and accidental.

  The young priest she longed to see appeared not to be at the Temple at all. Lying in her sleeping rug that night she decided to try and find out where he was. She persuaded herself that this would be a good test of her capacities and that she was doing it as part of her training in dream travel.

  She composed herself for sleep, emptying her mind of everything but the young priest, projecting her longing to see him with great passion into the dark and lonely night.

  At first she wondered why the moon and stars were bobbing about in the sky and then she realized that she was on a boat and the boat was in rough seas.

  A boat?

  She was surprised.

  She had expected the desert temple with the tall red sandstone columns fluted at the top like palm trees.

  For a moment she thought she must have failed, and then she wondered if perhaps she had not.

  There must be some reason for the dream of the boat.

  Perhaps it was a symbol.

  Sometimes
when one tried to project fear into the dream of one’s partner in an experiment and used the most frightening image of a demon one could think of, the partner saw a perfectly ordinary dog. At first it seemed as though one had failed but then it emerged in discussion that a dog had savaged him as a small child and ever since ‘fear’ was associated with ‘dog’ for him. The experiment had not failed after all.

  She decided to explore the boat.

  She passed the steersman but he did not notice her and this gave her boldness. It was a strange ship. Larger than she had ever seen. Grander. Yet made almost entirely of reeds.

  She found where the crew lay and stood beside them one by one, willing them to stir in their sleep and turn their faces so that she could study them.

  But he was not there.

  Sad at heart she willed herself to leave the ship and try to reach the temple in the desert.

  But she woke instead, restless and tossing, in her own sleeping place in the long house of the college.

  She lay awake most of the night thinking about the dream, but in the morning did not mention it to her friends or to the teacher.

  * * * *

  The full turn of the moon later it was Kyra’s time to be tested.

  She was to compose herself for sleep, asking deeply within herself for some kind of guidance or lesson from the spirit realms.

  No student was allowed to think of her this night and she herself was to try totally to empty her mind of all its usual images and thoughts.

  A year ago she would not have been able to do this, but now, as a result of the training she had received, she found it quite easy to do.

  She lay totally relaxed, alone and empty of all thought. So empty indeed that she was not aware of the crossing over from wakefulness to sleep.

  Next day she had to tell the class her dream and give her interpretation. On this she would be judged fit or not to move on a stage further in her studies.

  In her dream she had been present in a huge temple building such as she had never seen. A building built on many levels of different kinds of wood and stone, flags and fluttering streamers blowing in the wind from every jutting peak and rib of the many timbered roof.