Voices of the Stars

by Rowena Whaling

  She knelt before me. I raised her quickly...

  “Sister, you will never kneel before me again!” My first command... She nodded in acquiescence and then she and Bedwyr backed away. “Morgan,” thought I – “do not put this gap between us…”

  The four other chosen ones waited aside.

  Gwyddion then stepped into place, and said, regarding Lady Vivianne, “I place this Priestess of the ancients in front of you to remind you ever of this land’s foundation.” Gwyddion and Bedwyr each offered her an arm to aid in mounting the short stool that had been placed there for her.

  Lady Vivianne stepped up to stand before me. She offered, “I place my counsel at your disposal whenever your need arises. May you always listen first to those who would counsel you – and thus might you never be rash.”

  “Behind you stands Drest, son of Erp, the Pict, our allies to the North who have pledged to guard your back and fight with you to defend our alliance.

  “I place a comrade at your left” – Ignatius Constantius stepped to my left – “to remind you always that we are one people, one land, one King – each with our different and blessed ways.

  “To your right stands Aethelwulf, of Hengist’s court, who is gladly here as ambassador of the Saxons of Briton.”

  Now this was a ticklish situation, for we all of the alliance would fight to prevent any more Teutons from invading and stealing our lands. However, Hengist had been invited to Our Fair Isles by Vortigern – and thus had had the right to settle his Kingdom here.

  “Beneath your feet, with every step you take, is our Mother, the Goddess of Earth – to remind you that the land and the King are one. As fare you, so will these lands and these Peoples.

  “Above you is placed this circlet of gold – which is your crown – ever to remind you that every Woman and Man, Animal and Bird, Tree and Rock and Spring, are all ONE in the great circle of life – each with their own work and glory and worship of the great Ones of Creation and that you, who holds the God within you, are a willing sacrifice for these, your peoples.”

  Then Gwyddion held the golden circlet on high – showing it to all gathered in the hall – held it above my head, and giving it into the hands of the four... he stepped back. Then all four, each holding their directional quarters of the Crown, lowered it upon my head. I was King! A great cheer arose and did not cease for a long while... Gwyddion whispered, “It is done.”

  Then, I got very, very drunk and was eventually carried to the King’s bed.

  The politics...

  The next Day – filled with introductions to every Chieftain, Minor King, Queen, Dux, and Lord of each of the realms, along with their wives and even some of their sons and daughters – plowed slowly onward. I stood patiently with Gwyddion by my side. Of course, I was expected to remember all of their names as well as the location of their land holdings. They were standing in a great line waiting to kneel, wish the King well, kiss my hand, or present gifts – which gifts were stacking into huge piles behind us. They were also there to remind me of favours they had done for me or my Mother’s or Father’s house and of course, of boons they were wishing for. I can think of no word other than tedious to describe it, but that word cannot even begin to reach the level of the thing...

  At last, some very interestingly unexpected guests arrived… the first of whom had been unexpected by me because of the great distance they travelled. This was a large group of the wild men and women of the Picti, who had pledged their peace. Here they were in their colourful checkered dress and painted skin, coming to show, in front of all, their support for this alliance. This pleased me and Gwyddion well. I was so very pleased by their presence that I proclaimed:

  “Once in every year, or as often as is possible, we should all remember our pact by feasting and holding games at Table Rock together” – to which it was a much lesser distance for our compatriots of the North to come. Another cheer arose at that – and much more drinking.

  The very last supplicant, for effect I am sure, was Princess Rowena – she who was daughter of Hengist the Saxon and widow of Vortigern – Hengist with whom we held a shaky peace treaty.

  Now, Princess Rowena herself was a very good negotiator and a brilliant politician. She had taken over Vortigern’s estate, holdings and fortress, which, as she managed them, had become very prosperous. Yes, she was a strong woman – and a very beautiful woman as well.

  Gwyddion whispered to me:

  “I like this woman – listen acutely to whatever she says, for she is very clever, but also trustworthy.”

  “My Lady Princess Rowena – daughter of the great King Hengist – you will always be welcome at this court” said I.

  She nodded her head, but did not kneel – showing herself to be my equal.

  I nodded in acceptance, paying the same homage to her.

  “King Arthur, I have come to pledge my support to you, to make a treaty of alliance, and to bring a very special gift.”

  “Speak, dear Lady.”

  “You have become High King of a great nation. It is understood everywhere, that one of your first and most important duties is to marry and produce an heir, no?”

  “Yes...”

  “Well, then, allow me to first give a gift to you, free of conditions – a golden gem-encrusted chalice made by Saxon goldsmiths, known the World over for their excellence in metal craftsmanship.”

  She motioned with her hand. The crowd of her people separated and out walked a girl of such unearthly beauty that a murmur ran through the entire hall. She was not as tall as was Princess Rowena, who towered over almost all the men present. No, but she was lithe as a Willow, small breasted – which was unusual in Saxon women – and she moved with the grace of a Swan, even her hands moved with the delicate beauty of the Twyla y Tag. Slender and pale was she and her hair was very light and brilliant as Sunlight. I caught a glimpse of her eyes – wide and turned up like a Cat’s – they were so pale a blue that I was not sure whether they were blue or gray or colourless. So stunning was her beauty that whispered admiration grew and grew across the Great Hall.

  I held up a hand for silence.

  She was holding out before herself a magnificent golden chalice. It had emeralds, amber, and pearls embedded into it.

  Princess Rowena said with a slight smile, fetchingly upturning one corner of her mouth, “Behold the golden chalice – fit for a King.”

  Now, everyone in that hall knew that the chalice was a symbol for woman – more than that – the womb of a woman. It was what held the blood of the line...

  “May I present my little sister, whose name in your tongue is Gwenyfar? Behold – the chalice of King Hengist’s blood. The metal one is yours as a token of our esteem.”

  Gwenyfar walked up to me, knelt and held up the chalice offering it to me with trembling hands. I took it from her.

  “Beautiful,” said I.

  “Yes... Yes,” said Rowena, now with a big sunny smile, which I knew was genuine...

  “The gift is yours to keep... But the alliance offer is this: King Hengist, who fathered Gwenyfar upon his Cymru Queen, is offering to you a permanent peace, cementing the bond between our two families and sealed by your marriage to his daughter Gwenyfar.”

  By the Power of Three! A Spell had been Cast. Oh, not the truly Magical kind, but a Spell, nonetheless. Everyone could feel the tension – anticipation grew in the Hall.

  I said, very carefully, “Your sister is a beautiful and most worthy girl. I thank you for the golden chalice and this most generous offer of alliance. You will understand that I must first meet with my counselors, but we will have an answer by tomorrow as regards King Hengist’s generous offer.

  “Please eat and drink – be merry all, on this Night of celebration. We are most honoured by your presence.”

  I signaled that this ordeal was over for this Day and left for my chamber with Gwyddion and Bedwyr.

  My head was pounding with pain.

  In my chambers I asked, “Now what, Gw
yddion?!”

  He responded: “This is a prospectively good – or dangerous – situation. Hengist is offering his daughter to you. If you accept, he pledges permanent peace. If you refuse there is a great insult to him and war with his Saxons will most probably follow...”

  “But if I accept a marriage alliance with a Saxon Princess, what will all the other Chieftains and Dux of my army think?”

  “Yes, yes... I see your point... Probably a number of them are planning to ask the same thing of you – to tie you to them with a daughter or sister. Whichever one you would choose Arthur, the rest would be upset.

  “But Arthur, this girl is half of Clan blood. Rowena made a point of that.”

  Bedwyr butted in – “Arthur, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld.”

  “Bedwyr you know my heart, she is not my... type... at all.”

  Gwyddion retorted, “But, would anyone who would be offered to you in marriage please you, Arthur?”

  “Probably not.”

  “But, Princess Rowena is right, your duty is to marry and produce an heir.”

  “So you are recommending that I take her as wife, Gwyddion?”

  “Yes, I believe that you should. But rest this Night, Arthur, and tomorrow we will call council to discuss the matter. Sleep well, Arthur.”

  As he spoke these words, he looked at me with those silver spiral eyes of his...

  “Sleep well, Arthur...”

  His owl blinked and the next thing I knew, I was fully rested and it was morning.

  After three hours of arguing back and forth, the decision was unanimous that marrying Gwenyfar was a most astute political move. So, I wearily acquiesced...

  That was it, then, my life was no longer my own... I felt like a fisher’s boat in a maelstrom.

  “Morgan, oh, Morgan, what foul games the Gods sometimes play... for always and only did I wish to be your husband.”

  My heart was filled with tragedy...

  When the festivities were over and farewells were said, everyone began to travel back to their various homelands.

  The wedding was set to take place at Mid-Summer, when the Sun God ruled in all of his glory.

  I kissed and hugged my true Lady Mother, Igraine. We looked into each others eyes and both knew that although there had been a lifelong association, never had she thought of me as her son, nor had I looked upon her as my Mother. My dear Mother, Tangwen was the woman who had raised me. She was here too, along with the man who I had known as my dear Father. I hugged and kissed them both and was so very glad to see them. I filled them in on everything that had happened.

  Surprisingly, Morganna had come too... I had not seen or spoken with her since we learned that we were blood siblings...

  When I had finished visiting with my family, it was Time for rest.

  I was very grateful for that. I had drunk more in the last week than ever I had done in my life. But it seemed as something that was needed, if not appropriate, to the stressful situation I was in.

  Just before retiring, my sister Morganna, already known and well feared throughout our land for her Dark Magics, walked up to me with a goblet and said,

  “Here, my brother, take ye a drink of the Vine. I have flavored it with costly and exotic spices, so that you may be treated as a King ought to be. And there is a little something in it to aid you to rest this Night.”

  Never expecting she dare any foul play, I drank it.

  I bade them all a good Night and I went up to my chamber.

  I sent everyone away. I had no need of people dressing me and undressing me just because now I was King. I had been a soldier, I had been a boy who mucked the Horses, and I had been the student of a wise man and a worker for him. I had lived in a cave, for Goddess’ sake... This being a King was a new thing to me and I decided right then and there that I would not take on a lot of the trappings, which were embellished upon other Kings. I wanted no one to guard my door, I felt this unnecessary...

  But then Gwyddion knocked upon my chamber door and said, “Something is wrong, Arthur – I taste it on the air.”

  I said, “What?”

  He anwered, “For once, I do not know, I cannot see into the thoughts of the one who may be wishing me – or you – evil.”

  “You cannot see into their thoughts?”

  “Oh, perhaps it is only that I am so tired. But... will you not have a guard? For I feel a foul Wind approaches.”

  “If you wish it Gwyddion, I certainly will.”

  “I do wish it. Good Night, Arthur.”

  “Good Night to you, Gwyddion.”

  So, a guard was set at my chamber door.

  I do not know when it was... perhaps some Time in the deep of Midnight, as I was in a fitful Dream of Morgan – always Morgan – a veiled woman approached the guard standing outside the door. She made a hand gesture and blew in his face, without uttering a word. He fell fast to sleep.

  She crept into my chamber, dressed in a buckskin like the one that my beloved had worn on the Night of the Heiros Gamos and the veil as well. All I knew when I awoke in the darkness was that she was lying there... Sleepy as I was and feeling drugged – perhaps from the drink Morganna had made – when I looked up, there, as the Goddess veiled, was my Morgan.

  “Morgan... Have you come to lie with me?”

  She nodded her head and pressed her finger to my mouth for silence. I began to lift the veil from her head, but she put her hands up to stop me and shook her head “no.” Still, there behind the veil in the deep shadows, I could see the angles of her beautiful face.

  “Oh Morgan, you are wearing the robe that you wore on the Night of the Sacred Marriage...”

  Although this pleased me well, she seemed bothered somehow by my mention of it, for she made a small growling sound in her throat. Her body pressed urgently against mine. She sat up on top of me and raised the buckskin from herself. There was her glorious dark body.

  I was naked, of course, beneath the coverings of my bed. She had thrown them aside. She would not kiss me, although I tried hard to have her mouth upon mine... But instead she bit me on the neck as she mounted my phallus and thrust her hips forward. She scratched at my arms, and commanding me to submit to her will, gathered my hands into hers and placed them upon her hips. Roughly, she pulled my hips up to meet her. She went wild atop me.

  If this was a Dream, oh, Gods, blessed be that I may live in this Dream forever. I had thought never to have her again like this. Could this really be? Will it be so forever? I was ravaged by her Love. Then all thought escaped me...

  I lost myself in her. It did not take long for me to reach climax. I reached for her – for another joining, but she pushed me away. She said, “Shhhh” and shoved me back onto the bed. Wordlessly she got up, straightened her clothing and then walked out of my chamber!

  I tried to go after her. Confused, I pled, “Morgan, wait!”

  I stumbled when my feet met the floor. The room spun. I could not stand. Had I really drunk so much?

  I lay there with my head swimming and my thoughts scattered. Soon I was asleep again...

  In the morning my eyes opened to Sunlight streaming through the slits in my chamber wall and to a cool breeze. There I lay – naked and uncovered upon my bed.

  “Am I always going to be blessed or cursed with Dreams such as this?”

  But then when I looked down at myself and at the bed, there was the evidence and scent of Lovemaking.

  “Morgan, you really have come to me!”

  I did not know whether I was deliriously happy or just delirious – or terribly sad.

  I lay in bed for hours.

  Gwyddion came to me later that morning and said, “I woke up with such a foreboding – Arthur, has something happened to you in the Night?

  “My head hurts badly.”

  He looked into my eyes, opened my mouth, looked at my hands and listened to my heartbeat.

  “You have been drugged! What happened?”

  I remained silent.
I would not – could not – tell this thing of Morgan and myself, even to Gwyddion.

  The guard at my door, when questioned, could not remember what had happened. When he awoke in the morn, his only thoughts were of how he had failed his duty of keeping watch at wakeful attention. When questioned, he spoke truthfully – as he remembered it – of incomprehension at how he had done so. I would later remember him for his truthfulness...

  When I saw Morgan later in the Day, she walked up and smiled to me as sweetly as ever she had. As though nothing had happened... As though the world had not changed...

  She said, “Good morning my brother, the King.”

  I held her by the shoulders and with desperate joy said, “Morgan!”

  She looked up at me quizzically – “Yes?”

  I could see in her eyes that she knew nothing of what had happened. A feeling of dark and dreadful doom passed over me.

  Although I have not the Sight, there have been moments when flashes of something glinted in my head – and this was one of those moments.

  Morgan, still looking at me, heard whatever Voices were trying to speak to me.

  She gasped, “Oh, Arthur!”

  “What?”

  “Someone came to you in the Night! And you thought it was me?”

  Damn her Sight!

  I could not even look into her eyes... much the less speak... Finally I fumbled with my words and, falling to my knees, I said, “Morgan, forgive me!”

  “No, but you must have known that I would have never...”

  “I know... But, there you were, in the buckskin, and the veil. It was you!”

  My words stuck in my throat...

  Then both of us realised the horror of horrors that had taken place.

  “Morganna!”

  Morganna looked exactly like Morgan, although a bit older...

  “But no and no again,” quoth I... “I could not have been so deceived.”

  But wait! I tried to think – quickly going over all that had happened.