Voices of the Stars

by Rowena Whaling

  Of course he had been back to visit with us as often as he could manage through the years that had passed, but those had been merely cordial and pleasant times, spent in good conversation and getting to know all of my household better. This visit, I knew, was of a much more purposeful and profound nature. After the proscribed greetings and polite conversations, he spoke with me about the agreement I had made regarding my son Bedwyr.

  “I am sure, Igraine, that you remember your promise to me.”

  “Yes, I do... How quickly the Time has passed.”

  “Igraine, you know that it is customary for boys to be fostered.”

  “Yes... yet, I would never have agreed without being under duress...”

  “Nevertheless, you did agree to it… I will teach him many things, Igraine. This was ordained by the Gods long ago.”

  “Gwyddion, he has been taught many things already. But yes, I am not betraying my word... I know that he will do very well with your mentoring. But it would break my heart to take him away from the Bear – for I know that they are beloved, inseparable friends.”

  Gwyddion smiled with a twinkle of joy in his eyes... or was that triumph?

  He continued, “I was hoping to take them both with me. In fact, I had already spoken with Tangwen and Markus about this possibility when last I saw them.”

  “Oh, I see… that will, of course, be wonderful for them – but promise that you will come often and bring them back to us, for my Morgan has gone... and now the boys will leave too.”

  “You can be assured that we will come as often as is possible.”

  A side note:

  I noticed upon that Day that Gwyddion did not say to me, “Well, you still have Morganna...”

  I had seen the way he always looked at her. And it was with the same dread and horror as did I. But we did not speak of it…

  Gwyddion

  The Joyous Days...

  Arthur and Bedwyr were just past their twelfth year-turn when we left Dumnonia.

  After our leave-takings we wound our way down the difficult path away from Igraine’s fortress. Standing high as it does upon its Wind-swept promontory above the rugged Dumnonian coastline, its mass of timber and Stone appeared all the more huge, looming above us as we descended toward lower ground. The boys could not refrain from looking back toward their home and Mothers left behind. No doubt they also suffered apprehension over what the future might hold for them, but they had bravely taken their leap of faith and there was no turning back now.

  Our journey was long and hard but eventually we arrived at the spacious Cave I had prepared as our dwelling within the belly of the Snowy Mountains.

  Now, our Cave had far less comforts than had the Fortress of Dumnonia, wherein Bedwyr and Arthur had lived since their births. You see, it was furnished very scantily.

  The first thing I had done when I found the Cave was to contrive a means of hanging an oil lamp near the inside of its entrance – for when evening fell it was too dark inside for me to see my hand before my face. Then, near to where I had envisioned a table to be, I found a small natural shelf jutting out from the Stone wall, which was just the right size to place another oil lamp upon. Next I procured the services of a man and his wife who lived on a nearby farm. I left instructions for them – and silver too, of course – to first clean the Cave and then to lay rushes and flea-bane and fragrant Herbs upon its floor – which was very hard, it being Stone and not dirt – for softness and warmth. This would also help to keep out fleas and flies. The man, who was somewhat of a carpenter, had made three raised areas that would become our beds, two log benches and a trestle-and-plank table. That was it.

  As far as keeping larger beasties from inhabiting our home until I returned, I had Cast a very un-welcoming Spell with them in my thoughts!

  Arthur and Bedwyr spent the next five years under my tutelage. These were joyous Days – Days of peace, free from worry and concern, Days of Sunny or Cloud-dappled blue Skies, fishing in the cold Creeks of the Snowy Mountains in Winter and Summer, playing games of wit and skill... All the while was woven into those Days the knowledge and Wisdoms they must gain. Much of my Time was spent teaching them in the Woods; of root and stem and seed and Herbs, of Moss and Stream, of Trees and Flowers, of Stones and Caves – and of all Creatures of flesh and bone.

  In my training of them, we practiced the ancient “Walkers’ Arts,” so that they both might learn to traverse the Otherworlds – there to meet the Spirits, who were their true teachers.

  With these Arts, Bedwyr had no problem, a fine and gifted student he was; a ‘Seer’ – but Arthur could only accept and understand these practices intellectually. I had taught them both equally, but the gates between Arthur and the Otherworlds seemed to be locked. This greatly disappointed me at first, but then I relented – for not all men or women have the Gifts of the Arts Magical. I realised that I must accept Arthur as the Creature he was. He was a good boy, brilliant, valiant, and a lover of nature and of the Goddess. In fact, he honoured all Gods and Spirits. But, to shift into the waves of other-consciousness... this he had much trouble with. So be it, then – as the Fates willed it.

  They had both already been taught to read and use letters and I knew that Bedwyr’s Father, Marcus, had trained them well in the games, skills, and crafts of war. Still, there was so much more that they must learn in order to be King and King’s Champion, such as the matters of leadership and diplomacy... in these, at least, I had acquired proficiency.

  Now, while it is true that I have ever disdained the butcheries of war, I had by then come to know that, in the world of men, betimes battles were a necessary evil. I have heard it said somewhere that for some things there is no good answer. During my years with my brilliant brother Ambrosius, I was privy to many conversations – and even a book that Ambrosius held in his possession – regarding Roman military tactics, maneuvers, and formations. This book was one of Ambrosius’ most prized possessions. It had been a gift from Emperor Theodosius – the second of that name – in appreciation for his continued service and allegiance to the Roman Empire, given to him through the hands of Germanus of Auxaire on the occasion of the “Alleluia Battle.” The information in the book I had committed to memory. True, at the time, I was only interested in these things from a purely intellectual standpoint, but the realization had later dawned within me that this would be very practical and excellent information for Arthur to have. Thus, thanks to Ambrosius’ new book – Epitoma rei militaris – General Rules of War – written by one Vegetius, I was able to teach the boys something beyond what Marcus had imparted to them. These things we turned into fun games played by the three of us with makeshift props for weapons and shields. In this manner, they learned of ‘The Wedge,’ ‘The Saw,’ and ‘The Orb’ – offensive and defensive formations. Perhaps the most beneficial information of all regarding how Rome had achieved their military greatness was that ‘training was the most important tactic to the Roman Army’. Every soldier was trained to fight hard and to improvise – not unlike an engineer; able to make use of whatever was to hand in any situation.

  The main reason the Roman Empire was so successful in its military conquests is because the men were so tightly bonded, each man thinking of the next as his brother. It was unthinkable to them to fail their family, so men stayed by their brothers regardless the odds against them; fighting to the death, if necessary, to protect one another.

  If only Arthur could eventually develop this kind of loyalty amoungst his troops, he could not fail, thought I. And so it proved to be in later years.

  Yes, my life during those years was all about the boys.

  Having taken upon myself the whole of their continuing education, it was clear that instruction in the ways of Love between a man and a woman were to be difficult for me to teach them. For, never had I lain with a woman – and as far as I could then see, I never would. I tried to teach the boys what I had heard of Love... But soon I realised that my attempts were an abysmal failure. They would ha
ve to learn of these matters in their own good Time.

  In later years people said that I was not a man at all, but a Creature made of Magic – that my birth had been a thing of rare wonder, that I had not really had a Human Father at all. No doubt the silly rumours of Vortigern’s camp were still being tossed about. These served my purpose well – for none would ever suspect that I was indeed the truest heir of Macsen’s blood.

  Through those years when the boys were with me, news had reached me that since Uther’s Death, the Clans and their Chieftains had all vied with one another, each one seeking to take Uther’s place as War Chieftain or King.

  The Chieftains could come to no agreement. Petty disputes and squabbles went on and on, but all of their struggles were no part of my life in those Days.

  The cycles of the Great Wheel turned – as always they do – and before I knew it, five years had passed and the boys were at their seventeenth year-turn.

  One cold Day as we were all sitting and fishing by a Creek, with the mid-Stream’s Water splashing and bubbling, with the Ravens above qworking, the ice at the edge of the Creek creaking and the Breezes pushing the last of the browned, fallen leaves to and fro upon the Mossy ground... on that most wonderful of Days, again I was taken... taken without warning or asking...

  The Voices whispered my name, “Gwyddion... Gwyddion...”

  I suppose that my face had turned white, for the boys were staring at me. Deeper and deeper into the Well of my self was I pulled until I heard them whisper again.

  “Gwyddion, Gwyddion! It is Time.”

  And so it was.

  I told the boys that we must go now.

  Of all things, although he claimed not to have the Sight – and indeed it did seem that way – it was Arthur who said, “It is Time... Time to go? Will the world ever keep changing for us? I fear that this is the end of our youthfulness... of our beautiful boyhood together... I feel in my gut that there are things afoot that will change everything. Tell me, Gwyddion, tell us... There is something that you have been hiding… what is it – please tell us now!”

  It was then, at last, that I told Bedwyr and Arthur the circumstances that had led to their births.

  Bedwyr was heartbroken. Oh, not because he wished to be the son of the great Dux of Dumnonia, but instead for the fact that Igraine was not his real Mother.

  Arthur, in his great Love and compassion said, “Oh my brother, what difference does it make? It is you she Loves far better than me; she will always Love you thus, as will I always Love you. There has never been a distinction between us before. You never made me feel like an underling, why should I now do that to you? Nothing changes, Bedwyr. Nothing will ever change between us. Nothing will ever part us – nor will anyone.”

  However, Arthur seemed to take the news of his own birth and of who his true blood family was as a tragedy... Arthur wept bitterly and often. He thought that Bedwyr and I had not heard him – but of course, we had.

  “This means that Morgan is my blood half-sister...” was all he ever said to us about it.

  A shiver and a foreboding came over me. Not of perilous doom, not of anything that would un-do the Love and friendship of the three of us – but of something in the future that would bring great grief to one, if not all of us. And because, by this Time, I held a great Love for both of the boys, I was sore distressed.

  Back To Brennos...

  When we awoke upon the next morn, with great haste the boys and I with Chronos began our journey toward Brennos and his Ravens three – to inform him of all that must now be done and to retrieve Uther’s sword.

  Chronos always reminded me that there was a Time for everything. Along our way she whoo-whoo’d in my ear each Night – Oh, not my physical ear, of course, but the ear inside my heart – and gave many Wisdoms to me. All along our journey to Brennos’ Cave, I communed with her: “Advise me, my dear friend and companion. Aid me in this plan that I am to devise regarding the sword Caledfwlch and the making of a King...”

  I kept asking... but as always, she kept her own counsel until she was good and ready to give it...

  One Night, while sleeping beneath a rocky overhang where we were protected from the Wind, I thought I heard Chronos say, “Whoo... Whoo... Caledfwlch is awaiting yhoou, Gwyddion... For, there is a riddle from Times long past, which says, ‘He Whoo finds the sword is the true Blood King – although he is never to be King – while yet, the True King finds the Sword... He who solves this riddle is worthy...’ As you know, Gwyddion, Caledfwlch is the sword of the Kings – and Queens – of the Britons from Times unknown. Those were the Days of equality of men and women on this Isle – until the Romans ruled and brought with them the un-balance...

  “Now, a sword is a masculine symbol. Just so, is a chalice a feminine. Yhoou know, Gwyddion, and yhoou believe – as the Dark Tribes and the Clans believe in common – that there must be male and female, light and darkness, breathing out and breathing in, to keep the balance and to keep the world in motion.

  “These Isles are becoming an empty chalice. Long held traditions have been swept away by the Roman invaders. Now they, too, have left. Our chalice has nearly been drained. We drift upon a Sea without direction... Caledfwlch – in Arthur’s hand – will fill that cup and revive the Britons’ pride of heritage.

  “First, yhoou must find Caledfwlch, to fulfill the Spell upon it. Then, by replacing Caledfwlch and spiriting Arthur to it, you are in effect naming him as your heir and the next true King... But he himself must retrieve the Sword of Kings from whence it hides, to prove his worthiness...

  “Then Gwyddion, yhoou must finally complete the balance of the Sword of Power for all time, by etching into it its final symbols... Caledfwlch has waited for ages to be completed.”

  I asked incredulously:

  “What is this? I must alter the great Sword of Kings?”

  “Whoo Whoo… Whoo Whoo.”

  “What did you say?"

  “ Whoo... Whoo... I said – yes, yes... ‘Cosmos’ and ‘Chaos’ must be etched into the blade...

  “Pick up that stick at yhoour feet, Gwyddion. Hold it as yhoou would a sword, then turn your palm up... On the side of the blade then showing, yhoou must etch ‘Chaos.’ Chaos is the Great Mother – the Dark and Formless One, the Originator. Then, on the opposite side – with it held palm down – must be etched ‘Cosmos.’ Cosmos is all that is in form – the movement and manifestation of the Great Goddess – all that lives in myth as her Son and Lover, the young God...

  “To etch these into the blade, Gwyddion, yhoou must use only yhoour Magic – only the “Grym Hudol.” Use yhoour first finger of power – or yhoour wand of Willow, if yhoou prefer – to direct that energy which is capable of breaking sound and making light. Use it instead of a forge and a chisel of iron.

  “This Sacred act must only be done within the Magic Circle of the Lady of the Lake – only she may make a King with yhoou... And only the Great Mother’s Priestess may seal the bond...

  “Yes, Gwyddion, a Sword is just a Sword – an implement of warfare – but Caledfwlch will be the symbol of the Divine unity of Goddess and God – the tie that will bind all the peoples whoo dwell upon these, Our Fair Isles.

  “By this Sword, as well as the Pen Dragon standard, must Arthur fight and win the battles which will restore order and peace to this land. While he holds it, he will be invincible!

  “But, all this in its own good Time...

  “Whoo, whoo... whoo, whoo...”

  My body stopped its floating and I became more stable within myself. I looked at my wonderful Chronos. I thought I understood...

  “Dare I ask more? You have told me this much – tell me... tell me what plan I must devise and where I can find the sword.”

  Silence...

  I lay my head to rest that Night and listened to the howling of the Wolfs...

  We reached Brennos to find him well. Arthur and Bedwyr fell under his Charm just as I had done as a boy. We had a wonderful – albeit short – visit
, retrieved Uther’s sword, and bid a good-bye to Brennos, promising to return whenever possible, then were on our way Southward to the Isle of Apples.

  On the very first Night’s rest from our hard travels down frozen, muddy roads, we were fortunate enough to come upon a mean round-hut with smoke issuing from the center of its Snow-burdened straw roof. We dared to knock upon its plank door. A suspicious voice spoke from behind it...

  “Who goes there? What trade have you with me?”

  “We are four weary travelers: One man and his Owl companion and two tired boys – none of whom mean any harm to you. We happened upon your cottage, saw the smoke of your hearth, and wondered if we could spend the Night inside, upon your floor. We have bread and cheese to share with you and I have a bit of green ribbon for your good wife – if you have one, that is.”

  “I have an axe in my hand, just so you know,” said the man, “try no foolishness. Go away!”

  “Well,” thought I, “this may prove to be a bit bothersome...”

  “Good man, you asked: ‘Who goes there?’ My name is Gwyddion... I am the one people call The Merlin of the Britons. Truly we mean to be no bother or harm. Please, will you give us shelter from this cold?”

  “The Merlin? How do I know you speak truth? Do some Magic for me and I will let you in.”

  Now, I was taught that Magic is never to be done for foolishness or vainglory... Yet, we were cold and damp through to the bones...

  “Alright, my good man, I will stop the Snow from falling... But you must open your door to see that it is done, as there is no opening in your wall for to see out of.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, the Snowfall had already ceased. I said a nonsensical ‘Magic word’ and then told him to go ahead and look.

  He pushed aside the wooden planks serving as his door, to see that it was indeed not Snowing anymore.

  Poor ignorant man – what if I had been a robber?