Voices of the Stars

by Rowena Whaling

  But on I ran to Igraine… and to all of our destinies.

  Upon the next Night’s restlessness, I remembered my abandonment of Vortigern and the scene of the great battlefield where, upon the next Day, Uther the Pen Dragon distinguished himself as Champion of the famed Hallelujah battle, where the Roman-led Clansmen met their kinsmen who were fighting on the side of Vortigern. This battle was near to my nineteenth year-turn.

  They had met at that most Roman part of the Britons’ lands, several leagues Northeast of The Snowy Mountains, in Gwynedd. The Roman army was lead by Germanus of Auxaire, a man I did not like; a man of cunning and ruthlessness in battle. A Bishop was he, as is said “by the grace of gold!” Nevertheless, he was sent by the Christian Pontiff to end the perceived threat of Vortigern and his attempts to throw off Roman influence amoungst the Clans.

  In the pre-Dawn madness preceding the battle – after five years of my life spent in service to him – I slipped away from Vortigern’s camp, abandoning him to his Death, Casting about myself a Glamour, so that none seeing me would recognize me, or else, they would never see me at all. At that, I slowly walked out through their ranks, never to look back!

  Regardless of what my lofty position in Vortigern’s service had been, I was, in fact, his captive and forbidden to leave his company. Even though I could read in this man a great ambition and dishonesty, I had always known that it was in some way written in the Stars that I stay with him for the Time being.

  To myself, I thought, “Uther, now I do your bidding, though not by my will alone, but by that of the Gods.”

  ...And on I ran...

  In the deepening twilight on the evening of the last Day, a sleepiness overtook me – one which I could not shake away – no help for it but that I lie down to rest awhile.

  There is no recognition of Time – save the Goddess known by that name – in the Dream World, but still it seemed to me that no sooner than I had closed my eyes I was in another place and Time – in the future.

  This was no Dream of foul digestion or an anxious heart... this Dream was beyond quizzical; it was prophetic – filling the deep chasm of things unknown, which are yet to be!

  This is how it was:

  First, there was a blinding white, then green, then blue light surrounding something which I could not at first discern. As my Dreaming eyes became accustomed to the light, an image of a cross was before me. How could this be? I was no Christian. But then no... not a cross, it was a sword, a wondrous sword which had appeared before me. Upon each side of its blade were words, written in Latin. I spoke and read the tongue of the Romans, but this writing I could not decipher.

  I thought, “Many Times in my Dreams I cannot read... Wait... this means that I am Dreaming!”

  At that I awoke, hearing myself shout...

  “No! I am no Warrior!”

  The entire world around me sent up a call of Voices ... but only those of Earthen and feathered ones. I blinked and looked around. Then I called out to the Spirits, “What Magic is this?... for this sword, it burns within my head and heart, the palms of my hands and the bottoms of my feet. What is this about? I am not a man of the sword! And yet I know that it is mine!”

  There was only silence about me now and the eeriness of the creeping Mist. I called out once more, this Time imploring Them, “I beg an answer!”

  But as ever, They would unveil the Truth only in Their own good Time. Not long thence forward, did I reach the fortress of Dumnonia.

  Morgan’s note:

  I am compelled to interject this here...

  Although Gwyddion had not written of it in his first memoirs, in years to come, he told me the details of his relationship with Vortigern and why – he supposed – beyond his fear at the first, he had felt an immediate distaste for the man… of how the events of his life had played out leading to the final drama and how, in fact, Vortigern lost the battle against Uther and Germanus.

  Quoth he: “During all the Time I acted as counselor for Vortigern, he kept looking at me in a way that made me feel quite uncomfortable, yet realisation had escaped me, for at fourteen and fifteen years – even until I had nearly turned my nineteenth year-turn – I had been an innocent. Although this was beyond the years that most boys had developed in this way, I had not yet engaged in a sexual act with a woman or a man. With these things I did not fill my thoughts or heart, but only with the Divine Mysteries. Really, I had no Time for such things, even if I had been so inclined. But, alas, I was not. I think that I believed that my Magic would be eaten up by the giving of my semen to another. At some point in Time, I began to become aware of a lust burning in Vortigern toward me.

  “Before his last battle, in fact the very Night before, Vortigern summoned me to his pavilion under the guise of needing my counsel.

  “He was drinking excessively. He asked me to join him in drink. He knew that I did not drink strong drink, nothing of Vine, Herb, or honey that had been fermented. I liked to keep sure of my thoughts and in command of my self. But Vortigern insisted. And so, for this one Time in my life, I did agree to drink a small glass of wine… into which Vortigern had put Herbs known to greatly lower inhibitions. What fool he! I was well versed in the Herbal Arts and could tell every ingredient by the first smell alone! Of course, when he could not see, I spilled it upon his carpet.

  “He walked over behind the chair in which I sat looking at charts that lay upon the table boards. He put his hands on my shoulders, leaning over me to look at some diagrams I had just drawn. I felt the sick chill of fear. No, worse – a foreboding! Vortigern reached down and touched my chest. He rubbed downward on my body with his hands, and then he lifted me into his arms and kissed me, full on the mouth. He put his tongue between my lips. He was greatly aroused sexually and breathing roughly. As he held me to his body, I felt a very hard and persistent throbbing of his manhood.

  “Morgan, truly I tell you, I was terrified!

  ‘So Vortigern, you would have me as your catamite,’ thought I...

  “But then I thought, nay, I am too old to be considered a catamite – although I am nearly a man, yet in this way I am as a child...

  “Fretfully, I reminded myself: ‘I must remember my Charms and Words of Power...’

  “And so did I say a word of the Druids’ Magic – one that I am forsworn ever to repeat or to write upon vellum. This word was of the “Un-Making,” which stopped the moment, immediately!

  “I used the ‘Grym Hudol’ of my spiral eyes to look deeply into those of Vortigern’s. I placed within the man’s thoughts that which echoed through his body and created the effect of removing his ability to feel sexual desire! I had Cast a Spell of impotency upon him, which emasculated him and lead to his loss of prowess in battle and ultimately to his death.

  “For, it is one of the greatest of Mysteries that the Fire which burns at the base of the back-bone – coiled like a Serpent – either sleeps in waiting or rages by will. It is the Fire of Creation – of sexual power and of Magic.

  “I had said the word that would remove the ability of that Fire to burn within Vortigern, dooming him to his death. And that is why I, Gwyddion, later to be called The Merlin, left him to his own devices on that Night before his last battle.”

  Gwyddion’s writings continue…

  Finally, I reached Dumnonia.

  Igraine had known that I was coming. She had felt my presence growing stronger and stronger, although in fact, she had never met me. She knew of me as Gwyddion The Merlin, for I had by that Time been so named.

  She ran to the overlook of the fortress and there saw my approach. Staggering in a run, favouring my right side and holding my owl Chronos, whom I had wrapped in the warmth of my cloak, close to me, I had seldom been so relieved to reach a destination. Igraine called out that the inner gates be opened quickly and she herself ran out to greet me. Her attendants aided me into the fortress.

  She said, “Sit ye down, Lord, and calm thyself, for I feel a great turmoil within thee. Please allow my serva
nts to bring food and drink for to recover thy strength, as well as to wash thy feet with fragrant oils, for so exhausted does thou seem.”

  I did allow and appreciate her kindness.

  But as I was attended to with these courtesies, I said, “Igraine, Guardian of the Well, Daughter of the Goddess, great Seer, I pay homage to thee, but let us, as peers speak casually to one another.”

  She smiled and I became aware of her great beauty for the first time. No wonder Uther has lost his mind over her.

  “Lady, there is great Magic afoot of which I must tell you, yet I know that you will like it not. But it was the “Voices of the Stars” who spoke all to me and I am honour bound to speak it to you and to bring you to Their way of thinking.”

  And so I told her...

  Igraine was sorrowfully troubled at the news that she was being asked to willingly give herself – her body – to this man whom she hated! She became very angry and said, “How can They ask this of me? I have sworn – and will keep my promise – to Gorlois; that as he lives I will never give my body to another man.”

  “Igraine, you can see that he is very close to Death.”

  “But you said that Uther will be here in three Nights!”

  “Think on this matter. Go within, Igraine. Your perceptiveness has already confirmed all I have told you, else you would not have said; ‘How can They ask this of me?’”

  Igraine lowered her head in acknowledgment of the truthfulness of my words.

  Then I asked if I might speak with Gorlois.

  “Oh, but you will not tell him that Uther comes for rape? He must not be killed! I could not bear it. If Uther comes to murder my husband, I will kill him or be killed in the trying, regardless of the cost.”

  “Igraine,” I reasoned, “what then, would become of your little daughters and all that Gorlois has held precious? Calm yourself, dear Lady – for your husband’s life force will not long be within his body no matter what you do. You know in your heart that it is Time to let him go...

  “So I ask once more, may I speak with him?”

  She replied, “Of, course my Lord, The Merlin.”

  I entered the great chamber where Gorlois lay catching his breaths in much weariness. I looked about. I felt and saw many Spirits present to comfort this beloved man.

  There was a wonderful feeling of luxury here. There were carpets and great wall hangings that had come from the East, with quizzical geometric designs, some with grand depictions of the Greek and Roman myths woven into them. The floor had cemented upon it the tiled mosaic patterns that the Romans favoured so much. Its central theme was a Sky God with white hair, up in the clouds. Jupiter, they call him. I looked at the furniture. It was all hand turned and inscribed by the Tribes of the Old Ones along with some by the Clansmen who were both famous for their beautiful carvings. No expense had been spared – nothing missed for comfort in the chamber of Gorlois. There was a large and comfortable bed, set with great pillows and beautiful woven blankets in the center of the room, upon which lay the dying Gorlois.

  He looked at me.

  “May I speak with you, Lord Gorlois?”

  Gorlois called me to him and asked, “Who are you, my son?”

  “My name is Gwyddion and I am called The Merlin.”

  “Then I am most honoured to have you here. May I assume you are here on some mission of great import? May I also assume this means that my death is nigh?”

  “Yes and yes, Sir.”

  “I expected as much. Then sit here by me and tell all.”

  So, I told him that Uther his enemy would be coming, but that I had tricked him into a vow of coming only to kill Gorlois and that for great payment which I had offered to him, he would leave Igraine as mistress of her own house, Guardian of the Well, of the folk who lived about, and of all the wealth Gorlois and Igraine had. I made no mention of the price Igraine must pay for her freedom.

  “He has vowed it so,” said I.

  “I thank you so much for that, for with or without the aid of Uther, my Death is imminent.”

  “But, Lord Gorlois, when I told Igraine of these matters, she said that if Uther comes to kill you, she will murder him or else die for the trying.”

  “No! This must not be, for I am almost dead in any case. Call my wife to me, for I must tell her this. I would take my own life, but I do not have the strength. When will Uther be here?”

  In three Nights, at the Full Moon...”

  “Call my beloved wife to me, please?”

  So, I ran to Igraine and told her all he had said… but that I had not mentioned the rape. She put her head down and thanked me for that.

  “But, come with me now Igraine, for Gorlois wishes to see you.”

  Igraine and I went quickly up to the magnificent chamber of Gorlois, whereupon she leaned next to him in the bed, holding his hands in hers, kissing him on the cheek and murmuring sweet words of Love. Only some did I hear, wishing not to intrude upon their privacy.

  I realised then, with astonishment, that she truly did Love this man who was so much older than she. And, that her Love for him was as a handfasted lover, not only as husband or Father.

  As I moved closer to them, I did hear the rest of their whispered words.

  “You have been so good to me, Gorlois, and I Love you so very much. What is it you would have me do? I cannot take your life from you. No, never could I! But you are no longer strong enough to take your own and I would not have you die in pain.”

  “I am already in pain, my Dove.”

  “But still, why do the Gods make me watch this? And yet, I would not leave your side at the hour of your Death. Oh, what will we do? I am in much grieving sorrow over the loss of you already.”

  Gorlois said aloud, “The Merlin holds secret powers within him, as great as your secrets of Herb, Root and Stem – and of yours as a Seer... Both of you possess the Magic of your different traditions. My darling one, I have heard that by just looking into his eyes, I may fall asleep peacefully and quit my breathing and the beating of my heart. This is a High Druids’ power. Would that satisfy your wishes as to the way of my Death? If so, know that it would please me well; save that the last thing I wish to see in this life is your lovely face.”

  “Oh, my husband, must it really be so?”

  At the risk of un-welcome intrusion into their privacy, I interjected...

  “It is the most peaceful way Igraine – and this you know. Can you be so brave, for the sake of Gorlois and your little daughters?”

  When Igraine had agreed and made herself ready, I looked into Gorlois’ eyes and then allowed his eyes to look upon his beloved wife for one last Time… I whispered an Incantation, whereupon the greatly honoured and beloved Gorlois, Dux of Dumnonia, whilst beholding the vision of his beautiful Igraine, breathed in his last breath and his heart stilled. Then, Igraine simply took her fingers and closed the lids of his eyes.

  She wept. Tears of sorrow rolled down her face. But because she was, after all, a powerful Woman and had the heart of a Warrior, her tears were brief. She knew what she must do and there was little Time.

  She said, “Leave me alone and I will speak to the Goddess and to my Spirits. I thank you for saving my husband from Uther’s blade and allowing him a sweet Death... But now I must go to those who guide me, to get Their counsel, before I agree to do what you have proposed.”

  Morgan’s note...

  Little did they know that my sister Morganna had followed them up the stairs after she had heard everything The Merlin had told Igraine in their initial meeting, for Morganna was a devious one and already strong in the Magics.

  My sister, who was twelve years at that Time, was always sneaking about trying to hear what she was not supposed to hear. So, when The Merlin arrived, she had hidden herself in a concealed corner of the Great Hall and listened to all that had been said.

  She was a jealous one, too – perhaps because our Mother favoured me over her. Igraine had given to both of her daughters the training of the A
rts, for it was her charge to give to all who came forth from her womb the knowledge of our people’s Wisdoms. However, she lived in constant trepidation of the wickedness she ‘Saw’ within Morganna – a wickedness that she did not find in me. And so, although our Mother tried to be kind to her, Morganna, who had the Sight too, knew that I was our Mother’s favourite.

  Morganna did Love her Father, for he – who did not have the Sight – treated his eldest daughter with much Love and gave to her all manner of expensive gifts – anything that she desired. They shared many happy hours together, which she did never have with our Mother Igraine.

  So, when my Mother led The Merlin up the stairs, Morganna followed behind them and Cast upon her feet a Charm of silence, so that even the great Igraine and The Merlin did not “See” through her Magics.

  This is even now a frightening thought to me, that she could conceal herself from those two. But, she had done it. There is no denying it. She heard all that had transpired between her Father, her Mother, and The Merlin. Morganna was there, too, at the Time of her Father’s Death... although this was not a fitting thing for a twelve year old child to experience. She watched as The Merlin said a prayer to all the Gods and Spirits who surrounded Gorlois so that They may bless him and carry him into the Otherworlds in peace and honour. She then slipped back to her chamber, and with all she had heard of Uther and of Igraine’s giving herself to Uther – who intended murder upon her Father – began to devise a very wicked plan for her future. Morganna understood very well what The Merlin had up his sleeve!

  I hold this knowledge, because Morganna taunted me with it on the Day after our Father died. I was but five years, yet I will never forget the horror of those few Days. It was very much increased by my first realization of just what and who my sister really was. Of course, these things I never told my Mother. It was many years before we would all come to realise the immensity of Morganna’s plan.

  Gwyddion continues...