Voices of the Stars

by Rowena Whaling

The bed itself was made of straw with Wolfs pelts lain across it.

  Sweet smelling herbs and early Summer flowers were scattered upon the bed and lay strewn on the carpet of leaves covering the Earth in the clearing.

  Woolen coverlets were folded and laying beside our bed, in order to cover ourselves should the Night become too cool. Two white robes had been left hanging from a nearby Rowan, with which to clothe ourselves in the morning. A bottle of honey mead and one each of the two Holy Springs’ Waters were there beside the coverlets for us to drink, along with some foods to eat as we wished. All this had been prepared by my brothers and sisters – all there waiting for the Holy Ones. We... the Goddess and the Stag God...

  A place of such earthly beauty had never been seen by my eyes. More was it like a journey into the Otherworlds – the realms of phantasm – than our world of form.

  We stopped and gazed into each other’s eyes. Arthur pulled me firmly toward him and kissed my mouth with such an urgent and yet heartbreakingly tender kiss. This was the kiss of a man grown, not of a timid boy. He kissed me and kissed me again – my mouth, my throat, my eyes, my breasts – all the while murmuring unrecognizable endearments.

  Then at once he stopped, raised my chin and looked directly into my eyes.

  “Morgan, I could lie and say it is but the drugged wine or my Kingly duty or even the God’s Spell upon me, but never will I have a lie between us. Even if you come to hate me for this Night’s doing, you must know this – I have always Loved and adored you, not only as sister, but as a man Loves a woman. And I will always Love you so. Do you understand me, Morgan? To no one else will I ever give this Love. Tonight, I will have you as a man has a woman and I thank all the Gods for this one Time. If you think this wrong, Morgan, so be it – but please forgive me.”

  There were no words I could conjure – no right words to say to him. I suppose it was the Goddess within me who uttered the words that I heard coming from my mouth – for later, I barely remembered saying them: “Tonight we feast on Love’s bounty, as woman to man, Priestess to King, and Goddess to God. Let us hold nothing back and let there never be shame between us on account of this.”

  We stood there motionless, in utter silence, holding back that which we both hungered for. I knew that my heart – not the Goddess’ within me – but my heart, was of two houses.

  “Goddess... Yes,” thought I, “She is who I am tonight ... but I am Morgan, Arthur’s sister, as well.” One house held the memories of my childhood companion, the Bear, the boy I had so cherished and had taught to read and to write, to Love Nature, to understand the movements of the Stars, the boy who could never fill the Well of his yearning for the stories and Myths of the Old Ones. That house also held the memories of those balmy Days spent together in the Woods, whiling away our Time, with his head in my lap, speaking of our dreams and of things to come... Yet, I had not even seen that child for over seven years, but in the here and now, so near my body and desire, stood Arthur the man.

  He was breathing heavily and trembling for me. Yes, desire... It had me in its clutches as much as it did Arthur... His burning was evident in his taught muscles, the rigidity of his cock, as well as the lust in those beautiful blue eyes. They were drawing me down... down... into some hitherto unknown, forbidden Destiny. Some uncharted Sea – a maelstrom... I was undone... over powered.

  “Here Be Dragons, Morgan!” screamed the warning.

  This voice came from the second house – that of my rational being.

  “Could I really desire my own brother Arthur? Mayhap this is only the drugged mead... Or that I was only yearning for my first experience of carnal Love... Who was I trying to fool? In any case, these feelings are a secret I must keep to my grave...”

  But by now, the house in which dwelled my childhood memories and all rational thought, was being pulled farther and farther into oblivion... We were on a course steadily falling into silence.

  “Morgan...” was the last word spoken...

  He slowly lifted my buckskin shift, as though relishing every moment of the anticipation and every part of my body. When at last I stood naked before him, he stared at my breasts. I read his thoughts – “Oh, my Goddess!”

  Never did I know whether he meant me or THE Goddess. No matter now – She and I were one.

  He was so much taller than I, that when I looked straight toward him, I faced his muscular chest and arms. My eyes followed the trickle of sweat that ran down his chest and clung to the scant line of curly golden hair there, down to the thick patch above his manhood. Then, I looked up again to his nipples that were as perfect and hard as a man’s should be. I threw my arms around him and took one of them between my teeth. I kissed and sucked upon it. Arthur gasped. Then he roughly took my breasts into his mouth and suckled hard upon them. It almost hurt... Almost...

  Then he lifted me into his arms and lay me down upon our Wildwood bed. He began to enter me at once, but I stopped him. I shook my head in a gesture of “no.” His piercing blue eyes – which lit up my world – looked quizzically, almost hurt, at me.

  “Why,” he said – “have I done something wrong?”

  “No, Arthur,” said I – surprised by the strange hoarseness of my voice – “but the pleasure will last much longer if we play at Love by many different games.”

  I used every skill of Love and lust – as I had been trained to – to please a man, although I had no need to inflame Arthur. His Fire burned as hot as the blazing Sun must. It could not be quenched for hours. I, as well, was greedy for gratification, and with no shame... no shame... Over and over we clawed, bit, and caressed each other, rolling this way and that, ever changing the ways in which we would have each other.

  At Times, Arthur seemed surprised that there was ever a new road to ecstasy and release, only then, to have the heat of desire rise again and again. I was like a she-Cat in heat! Ravenous! He was like a Warrior at Love. But the roughness and pain of his Lovemaking was only ever to the point of Love’s pleasure.

  Oh, it was true, that at his first entrance, I felt a sharp pain... Then the maidens’ blood trickled between my legs... Then I was lost! In just a moment, the pain was forgotten. He filled me, then withdrew, then repeated his thrust to fill me again and again and again... I knew not which sensation I Loved the better. When we were joined – he inside of me – I saw the Stars. When he withdrew, I knew only the hunger to be filled again.

  “Oh my Horned one, I see forever in your eyes!...”

  Oh...

  Your Eyes... Entrance me...

  Oh...

  Your Smile... Enchants me..

  When you call my name...

  It is a haunting refrain...

  I am reborn again

  In Your Eyes...

  Finally, it was Dawn. I awoke to the songs of Birds and the coming light. Entwined in each other’s embrace, arms and legs entangled and heart to heart, were we. I did not remember when I had fallen asleep. Arthur had covered us with several layers of the woolen cloth sometime during the Night. I had no recollection of this, either. It was chill and humid, with a great Mist filling the Wood and surrounding our bodies. But I was warm in our embrace.

  In wonder I remembered how our bodies had responded to each other and had fit so well together last Night. But, now what?

  “No shame” – She, the Goddess within me had said – “No shame...”

  But, Arthur, oh Arthur, what of your great and tender heart – will it ever mend from this trick of the Weavers?

  Poetry of the Stars entered my thoughts:

  “I have awakened upon this morn, to see the sleeping form of my lover... The Dragon stirs within me... I adore his face, neck and shoulder... He is so child-like lying here that my heart sobs with delight of it! Oh, sleep a little while longer, my Love... for when you awake, the man will appear – and although I do Love the man... I worship the sleeping child...”

  Sleep a little longer, my dearest brother...

  Arthur

  I opened my
eyes and was looking straight into Morgan’s. She began to speak, but softly I placed my fingers to her mouth.

  “Please Morgan, allow me to speak first. Thank you for last Night... No... please... listen in silence, to what I must say. Allow me to finish. I know that you will never be mine again in the way that you were last Night. I am not a fool. If I were to satisfy my own desires, I would give away my Kingdom, Caledfwlch, and everything I have and am, to live in your Love forever as lover or Husband. But, I could dare not do it, even if you were willing – for I have been made King through The Merlin’s Magic and by the Blessing of The Goddess. Duty binds me to bring forth an heir. And you, daughter of Igraine, have been made by the Ancient Ones Enchantress of the Isle of Apples. The Stars have crossed us in different directions... Duty binds us both. So there is no need for you to speak painful words of rejection to me. I know and understand all the reasons why... but no matter, my heart will always belong to you. So please, my dearest one, do not break me in twain.”

  Tears were streaming down her face. With great effort, she choked out…

  “And I will always Love you, Arthur.”

  I kissed her forehead and removed myself from our bed. I brought one of the robes to her whilst averting my eyes for the sake of her modesty.

  How I wished to gaze upon her nakedness again... But...

  “Look, over there Morgan, they have left a cauldron of Water for us, so that we may bathe. Go, freshen yourself and be comfortable first. I will wait here.”

  My inner thoughts were challenging me. Did I really mean what I said about duty? Or am I a hypocrite who lies to the woman he Loves – as do most men? Were these simply words that I knew she had a need to hear? Curse me! For now I have spoken them... words which, in this life, bind her from my grasp. Morgan, oh, Morgan...

  I am captured by your Spirit...

  Delivered by your gift...

  Redeemed within your silence...

  Broken by this rift...

  Beguiled by your laughter...

  Enchanted by your song...

  Haunted by sweet memories...

  Will I be my whole life long...

  It was then that I noticed blood on the coverlets. So, Morgan had never lain with a man before! More fool I, to have tormented myself with jealousy – Phantoms in the darkness of un-knowings, of trysts that had never been! I hurriedly threw the coverlet up to cover the stains. I would not add the insult of yet more embarrassment for her to suffer.

  But, why had she not been with other men sexually? She had passed her twenty-forth year-turn! I knew that she cared not to have sexual relations with other women, for in conversation she had casually mentioned this to me. Not, of course, that she held disrespect for any form of Love; but why, then, her abstinence? “Oh, fool! Arthur,” thought I, “will you now try to convince yourself that she has somehow waited for you?”

  Soon she returned, looking as fresh as the newly opened blossoms. Still I saw that she averted her eyes from me... as she had never done before.

  My heart cried, “Oh Morgan, I cannot lose you entirely!”

  In silence we walked hand-in-hand toward the Order’s cottages... Until I could stand it no more!

  Pleading burst from my mouth...

  “Morgan, please... Forget all I have said of duty and responsibilities, promises and plans. For my life without you would be an empty torment. Oh, my Morgan, marry me! When I am crowned King, none will go against my wishes. Beside which, half brothers and sisters marry in many lands, where Kings and Queens are involved. You could even live on the Isle, if that is what must be for you. I could not be here always, what with the Times that I must spend away on my King’s work. But we could have a home here and...”

  “NO, ARTHUR! You have given your word! You must give your Kingdom an heir! That is your solemn responsibility.”

  “But...”

  “No! Listen to me Arthur; it is true that in other lands, it is a common practice for half brothers and sisters to marry, but those are not Christian lands. And although their numbers have been dwindling since the Romans abandoned our Isles, yours is still partly a Christian land. You and The Merlin have promised to treat all the peoples on these Fair Isles with equal respect, in return for their alliance. An heir, from what your Christian compatriots would call an incestuous and sinful liaison, would be a great affront to them; one which could break the alliance asunder. And – such an heir as that would never live to rule. Arthur, for these and many more reasons, I cannot marry you. What is more, what passed between us last Night will never happen again. I Love you Arthur, more than you could know... You and my – our – Lady Mother, have been the dearest ones to me in all of my life. But no, I cannot marry you. I will not marry you. I do not WANT to marry you!”

  Those words, harsh words, killing words, pierced my heart and bruised me to the marrow.

  “I... I am sorry Morgan; I will never ask it of you again.”

  We went each in the direction of our separate quarters. I prayed to all the Gods and Goddesses of the three worlds, that Morgan and I would not lose the closeness and tenderness which we had always shared. I could not lose her, even if it only be as her brother. But, I feared the outcome of this.

  Some of my companions were there in my quarters, awaiting my return. Amoung them were Gwyddion and Bedwyr, of course. I was met by their tentative silence. But then Kai, the Red, cleared his throat, and began the traditional lewd jesting and jeering...

  “Oh Night of Greenwood frolic

  I kissed her on the lips...

  But in my drunken stupor

  Mistook her ears for hips...

  My darling what fine ears you have

  But I will hold them straight...

  For not to miss my target of

  Your lips and pearly gate...

  I took my aim so gallantly

  But then became abashed...

  For where I thought smooth skin to be

  Found her bearded and mustached...”

  A roar of laughter went up...

  “Come on lads, where is your Spirit? Join in the fun!”

  And so I must. And so I did, although this was the most agonized and bereft I had ever felt in my life. Tradition demanded, so I acquiesced.

  All of my companions acted as though this morning was like any other morning after the First of Summer Rites with each one of them trying to top the other with stories of their own sexual escapades. Meanwhile, I was dying inside...

  PART TWO

  Arthur, The King

  Chapter 10

  Arthur Rex

  Arthur

  The crowning was set for three weeks past the Rite of Summer’s beginning.

  It was amazing how many people had come to attend the crowning ceremony and feast. An invitation had been extended to all of the most influential men and women of Our Fair Isles. Kings and Queens, Tribal Elders and Clan Chieftains, Dux and other military leaders, wealthy land owners and Merchants, and of course many Holy men and women. In addition to quite a few known Druids in attendance, there were several leaders of other religious traditions; such ones as the Seers and high Grandmothers of the Old Tribes, Christian Bishops and Monks, as well as some of Hengist’s Priests and Priestesses of Odin, Thor, Freyr, and Freya. Many of the Picti, too, had come, including a strange and terrifying looking Picti Seer. They had travelled the length of Briton to witness the crowning. This in itself was an historic event. For, never had the Picti involved themselves in anything farther South than the Emperor Hadrian’s great wall!

  There were many Bards, Musicians, and Dancers too. Great men and women, all…

  I remember noting how heady were the aromas of the feast – redolent with scents of flowers and smoldering Herbs in the hall. Large trestle tables were filled with delicacies of whole roast Boar and venison, Salmon, Trout, Quail, Geese and Swan. Savory dishes of Peas, Beans, Parsnips, Turnips, and Leeks were abundant. Flat Grain breads flavoured with Rosemary were served with butter, Berries, and honey. Ampho
rae of mead, ale, wine and of course, the Holy Springs’ Water were placed conveniently for all the feasters use. Great flaming torches were hanging along the walls and many oil lamps had been placed along the centers of the tables. The Oak beams were hung with banners representing all the peoples who were here in attendance. The Great Hall was filled with merriment and anticipation.

  I had chosen to be crowned, surrounded by a representative of each of the five cultures of these, Our Fair Isles, who had accepted me as their Over-King. The one thing that I had insisted upon was that Bedwyr stand with me for the crowning. Lady Vivianne would represent the ancient Dark Tribes as well as the Order of the Isle of Apples. Of course Gwyddion, The Merlin – a Druid – would represent the traditionalist Clans. As for the rest, Gwyddion had suggested that each of the cultures choose one of their own Holy men or women to represent them. I would also honour the seven directions.

  Lord Ignatius Constantius, the Christian, would have the honour of representing the Roman-styled Britons. Of this I was glad, for, as Gwyddion has said, I must rule Christians in equality with all others. Aethelwulf, a Seer of Hengist’s court, would stand for the Saxons. Drest, son of Erp, was chosen to represent the Picti. These, along with Bedwyr, would stand closest to me in the ceremony.

  The ceremony began with Gwyddion loudly pronouncing for all to hear – “As Arthur has commanded, I place his brother Bedwyr by his side, to faithfully guard and protect this King.”

  Bedwyr stepped up and stood at my right.

  In doing this, I had legally adopted him as my brother.

  At the appointed Time, Morgan the Enchantress, who had made the King at the Rite of Summer’s beginning, stepped up to give me her blessing. She was wearing the shell and Stone necklace that I had made for her when I was nine years old. I had to swallow hard and grit my teeth to hold back my tears. In formal language, she sang these words of blessing:

  “Oh King, Great Stag – Lord of the Wild Hunt – guide and protect us well. And when the sad Day comes that the Stars guide you home, leave us with an heir as brave and strong as you. Leave with him or her the sword Caledfwlch and the Crown – and may their heart be as pure as yours.”