Voices of the Stars

by Rowena Whaling

  However, it is well known that the Tribes also have far reaching outposts, isolated here and there in the virgin Forests from the far South to the far North of the main Isle of the Britons.

  It was in one of these Dumnonian villages that I grew from infancy to young childhood – although truly, I can remember very little of that Time, or of the intricacies of their culture.

  Our worship and Sacred Philosophies here at the Order are based upon long held Wisdoms, passed on generation to generation – yet are ever-evolving because of our interactions with the Magi of other Sacred Traditions.

  Time changes all things...

  However, it is said that those of the Tribal society of my Father’s kin have never changed their ways – and this, we of the Order greatly honour. Some people of this world may consider the Tribes’ way of life primitive – primeval even – but we understand. Their ways are the ways of the Gods “In the First Time.” They live in a Sacred World, where all things are ONE with Great Nature. That is why long and long ago they chose not to sully their hands, or their Spirits, with the ways of “The Others” – with whom they did inevitably come into contact.

  As our legends tell it – long before any of Briton’s known invasions:

  At the Time of the great catastrophe, when the one hundred boats sailed away from their sinking Island – out in each direction of the Four Winds – they were filled with their civilization’s most gifted Philosophers, “Seers,” Holy Ones, Astronomers, and Teachers of all other Arts and Sciences in an attempt to save their vast knowledge of the Cosmic Mysteries. And so, these women and men were sent as emissaries to lands across the Earth, so as to aid in the cultural development of less advanced peoples.

  However, our original Ancestors were mindful of the value of all people, not just the well-educated or successful: For, the GREAT GODDESS – in her expansive Love, gifts and protects all of her children – those of simple lives, who hunt and gather or sow and till, equally with the city dwellers.

  So, yet one hundred more sailing vessels were hurriedly put to Sea, bringing the Island’s simpler village folk to wherever the Goddess should blow their sails; for there was no Time left to teach them to navigate by the Stars.

  The Elders of the Original Land did, however, set within each of those boats a small cargo of Sacred items, each of which held Symbols of the Cosmic Mysteries.

  To our knowledge, at least one of those second one hundred boats survived... From that original stock, come the village dwellers of the “Old Dark Tribes” of the Britons.

  It was by the educated travelers in one of the first one hundred boats set to Sea that the Order here on the Isle of Apples was formed.

  Our school of the Higher Mysteries has educated our postulants, Priests, and Priestesses in the sciences and Arts of Writing, Mathematics, Astronomy, Sacred Geometry, Healing, Animal husbandry, Herbology, Mineralogy, History, Rituals, and Magics.

  However, we also use and treasure the ancient ways of the Tribal “Walkers between the Worlds” to Heal, “See,” seek, and Divine answers to questions unavailable in the world of form – and to communicate with the Spirits and Ancestors. For after all, how else but through the Walkers did the Gods of the First Time impart the knowledge of the Mysteries and of all other things to their Human family?

  I think that this combination of Arts and methods is not unique to our Order... for I have heard it said that in all lands wherein there are Great Mystery Systems with vast Temples, Universities and Priesthoods, there are also the “Walkers,” such as ours, who work simple Folk Magics and journey into the Otherworlds for the everyday personal needs of the common folk.

  Perhaps these Gifts of the Arts Magical dwell in every Human’s Spirit as a heritage from the common Ancestors of all people – there, but awaiting awakening.

  My Ancestry

  My own blood ancestry is only partly of the Old Tribes’ stock. I have kept this fact a silent secret until now…

  It is a long and complicated story of how a child would be made by such an odd coupling as my parents. But regardless of length, and because I think that these are important facts which should be added to my dear Morgan’s histories, I will write of them now:

  My Father was a man of the Old Dark Tribes of the Britons.

  My Mother’s is a very old family, whose land is on the continent across the Eastern Sea and far to the South of Briton. They are known to the Roman world as the Bergundian Affalonians, living in the area called Aix-en-Provence. However, of late, some call their Kingdom the land of Merovia.

  My Mother’s people are obsessed with keeping genealogies. Their meticulously kept records show that they have lived in the same area for almost as long as the Romans have been in Gaul.

  There had been connections, in the long ago past, amoung the Romans, the Clans and my Mother’s family. However, each is a very different culture from the others.

  Her maternal Ancestors originally came from the East, where they had lived in the city of Old Jerusalem.

  You see, their legends say that a distant Ancestor of my Mother’s was a man named Yosef of Arimathea. He was, it is said, a Holy Man and a Tin Merchant.

  This man, in his first sojourn Westwards, came all the way to the land of the Britons, and here, to the Isle of Apples. His purpose was to visit the Tor and the Sacred White and Red Springs, as well as to ply his trade. For it is known near and far that this entire area, which includes the Giant’s Dance and the other, larger, Stone Circles, as well as the great mounds of the Ancestors – and all places within – are filled with the Magic of the Gods. With this man Yosef came a young boy.

  Some say that the boy was his nephew – some say his brother. Yet, I find a great contradiction in this... If Yosef, as a man full grown, brought a boy with him, and he was the boy’s brother, then Yosef would have been the elder. If he was the elder brother, he would later have been named King of the Jews...

  Oh... I go ahead of myself...

  Yosef had come from the city of Old Jerusalem, whose name means the “City of Peace.” It was, in fact, anything but that.

  Years after his visit to Our Fair Isles, the Time came when the Romans were in pursuit of his immediate family, accusing them of sedition – and so he fled his ancestral home with his small band of fellow travelers, to live amoungst the people of Narbonne.

  This land is still inhabited by some of my Mother’s family.

  There are many other stories about this man and his family. What is fact? What is legend? I do not know. But some of the stories are quite fanciful...

  As it is, through the twists of Fate, my Mother was a hereditary princess of this line of Yosef’s family.

  My Mother was given in marriage to Merovech, King of the Salian Franks, and now reigns as Queen Vivianne the first, or, as some call her – Verica.

  But, before her marriage – unfortunately for her – she fell in Love with a man of the Old Dark Tribes of the Britons. This man – whose name was later forbidden to be spoken in her Grandfather’s court – left his Tribe and travelled to her land as a mercenary soldier, which was indeed a very unusual thing for a man of the Tribes to do.

  Apparently he was rebellious too! –

  Princess Vivianne gave to him a forbidden Love and she became pregnant with me. So, you see, I had tainted blood – unworthy of her family’s pure royal blood.

  The “official” story that was put about was that: “Vivianne had been confined to her quarters for the period of six months due to an illness...”

  Every helping woman and Midwife who had attended my Mother through her confinement and birthing were sworn to silence about the whole matter – upon the threat of their own Death and the immediate exile of their families.

  I, who did not exist, was given into my Father’s hands upon the third Day of my life. My Father brought me across the Sea to Briton when I was only four weeks old.

  I was told – when I was old enough to understand – that my Mother had sorrowfully begged and pleaded that I n
ot be taken away from her. Furthermore, she vowed that she would not eat a bite until finally her Grandfather relented and promised that my wet nurse be sent along with my Father and me to Briton – with gold for passage and proper provisions.

  My Father brought me to the Dumnonian Woods to live with my paternal Grandmother. She kept me for five years, whilst I was being nursed by the girl who had arrived with me from my Mother’s court.

  But I was not of the pure blood of the Old Dark Tribes either. In their eyes, I had come from a race of literate, city people – wise in the ways of the world and political intrigue – with whom my Father had carelessly bred and, because my Father had chosen to leave his life as a Tribesman, it was decided that I should be given to the sisters here on the Isle of Apples – if they would receive me... They did.

  Mine, though, is not the only strain of this Hebrew Royal Blood on our Island…

  But what do I care what blood runs through my heart? I am a child of the GREAT GODDESS, as are we all!

  Of my life...

  When I had passed twenty-nine year-turns and had been an Enchantress of the Isle of Apples for more than eight years, a great Chieftain of one of the lowland Clans died childless. And so, the Clan’s best Warrior and Seer was chosen as their new Chieftain. After he had been elected by their Clan council and the approval of their Druids, and after having received the blessing of the Lady of the Lake, all that was left to do to for his officially becoming Clan Chieftain, was to take part in the Ritual of the Heiros Gamos – the Sacred Marriage:

  “Priestess to Chieftain, Goddess to God, woman to man.”

  I was selected by The Nine High Wise Mothers, at the behest of the Lady of the Lake, to become the Goddess in that Ritual.

  She who was the “Lady” in those Days was a Priestess named Madrcsicsrgst. Her name meant – in the tongue of the Old Tribes – Bird Song. She had been like the Mother I had never known. But Bird Song seemed very old to me at that Time. I thought that, surely, soon another “Lady” would be chosen. I prayed that it would not be too soon. It proved not to be, for she remained alive for thirteen more years, after which I was elected to her position.

  As for the Sacred Marriage Rite, when she told me that I was the chosen one, I felt so honoured and joyful.

  Sexual encounters were nothing new to me. I was a worshipper of the Goddess and as such I knew that: “All acts of Love and pleasure are HER Sacred Gifts.”

  We of the Tribes, and all those of The Order, have been taught that: “To eat, to work, to sing, to dance, to plan, to Cast seeds, to harvest, to make Love, to bring forth children, to Heal, and to die... all else which is – and is done – under the Stars, is Sacred...”

  Nothing, to me, was profane.

  For, after all, did not the Gods of the “First Time” give us the example and teach us how to do every action under the Stars? In all of our Rites, are we not only reenacting what THEY did at the Cosmogenesis, thereby ensuring – as long as the Fates will allow – the continuance of all Creation? We keep the Great Wheel circling, one cog at a Time. Our Rites bring us into the “Land of Myth.” Through our Magic, we become co-creators with the Gods – “In the beginning.”

  Perhaps, for some, this Idea of a Ritual place and Time which is not a place or a Time of this world, yet, at the same Time is – is a new Idea... But in many, many lands, this concept is well understood.

  I held no foolish modesty of my beautiful body – of the Goddess who dwells within me – nor of what pleasure I could give or receive. So when the wondrous Night came, all was as it should be.

  I had known for a long Time that a daughter would be born to me someday. I prayed that this wonder of all wonders would be a child of the Bel-Fire Night. If that were to be the case, then no Father’s hand could claim her – no husband’s rule would tame her… This is not to say that she could never marry, if she so chose, but that no man would ever control her.

  Finally the Night of the Heiros Gamos was nigh...

  First came the traditional bathing, anointing, dressing, and veiling, then the drinking of the spiced herbal wine, then the drumming and the Enchanting.

  Then the Stag God appeared... I hid from him – he caught me. He kissed me with a great passion at the very first. I did not know whether this was the usual thing, but it was thrilling to me. He was handsome... Good! I spoke the words. He spoke the words. We ran to the Woods and I had the best sex I had ever had.

  I never saw him again, though he tried a few Times to visit me. I might have continued a relationship with him, for I did like him very much, but the Goddess had blessed me with a child and I wanted no one to know of it. Except, that is, for the Lady Bird Song. She was to be the only exception. When I explained my wishes to The Lady regarding my child, she understood and allowed me to leave the Isle of Apples for an entire year’s cycle. When I came back with a girl child in my arms, the story was put about that I had found her in the Woods and did not have the heart to let her die.

  My daughter, I named Nimue...

  Nimue was raised and taught by all of my sisters and brothers of The Order. Lady Bird Song made sure that I was the one who taught her to read and write in three languages. This was a means of Nimue’s spending much Time with me, as her lessons required her to be with me for a while, almost every Day.

  Nimue was not told until the Night of her Enchantress initiation that she was my daughter – or of my plans for her. Because of the fact that Nimue’s training had begun at such a young age and that she is such an intelligent creature, by the time of her eighteenth year-turn she was properly prepared to become an Enchantress.

  I was so afraid that she might feel betrayed or hate me for not letting her know until then. For all of her childhood she had believed that her family had abandoned her and left her to die in the Woods…

  Of course, I – who was by this Time Lady of the Lake, since Lady Bird Song had passed through the veil five years earlier – extracted a promise of silence from Nimue to never reveal this truth to anyone, until the Time was right. I required this complete confidentially before I could tell her the truth of her family.

  When I told her, I stood back and waited, holding my breath. She just stood there, staring, blank-faced at me. My voice broke when I said, “Nimue?”

  I, who am thought of by many as being stern, even cold, could not hold back the tears from falling down my face. What would she say?

  She rushed into my arms with such a tight embrace that I thought I could not breathe!

  “Oh, Mother! I have always wished that you could have been my true Mother. Everyone here was kind to me, but you were the one to give me strength, knowledge, honour, and language. Also perhaps... a Mother’s Love?”

  Then she sobbed and I sobbed as I stroked her lustrous, long black hair.

  Yes, some may think me hard-hearted, but this I can assure; that I Love Nimue as much as any Mother could ever Love a daughter.

  She was perhaps the most intelligent and driven girl I had ever known. I can even say this objectively.

  Before I conclude my writings for this Time and return quill to chest, I feel that I must add one more comment to these pages...

  Having said all that I have about our initiates of the Order being mostly of the Old Dark Tribes, I must add that with every generation, more and more Clanswomen, of Briton and Gaul, have come to live, learn, worship, and work here at our Order. This has especially been so since the Roman ravaging of the Druidical Universities. Even has a Picti girl – and one boy too – travelled from the far North, through the lands of their hereditary enemies to ask admittance to our Order’s school. It will not surprise me if, during my lifetime, a Saxon girl seeks admittance.

  And why not? After all, are the Goddesses in their colourful sagas, not similar to our Nine Mothers?

  This has been the story of the bloodline of Vivianne, Lady of the Lake, written for Morgan, by my own hand and seal, in this the forty-eighth year of my life on this Earth.

  A Note from Morgan...<
br />
  Now, before I die, and as I compile these histories, there is another way to view what my dear Lady Vivianne had written...

  There were some folk of this theoretically “Royal Line” of the Hebrews, who ended up in Briton as she revealed. Down through the various strains Arthur, Ambrosius, Uther, and Gwyddion were all of this Royal blood, through the line of King Hen Coel. My Father Gorlois was, as well, through his Mother – whose paternal lineage had come directly through the matrilineal line of the original house of Yosef of Arimathea.

  So, when Morganna tricked Arthur into begetting a child upon her, that child, Mordred, had many and great Royal claims – not only upon the Britons, but also upon the line of the now-called Merovingian blood.

  By now the families have multiplied to great extent, with Royal heirs in many different lands and Kingdoms.

  Perhaps it will be helpful to say, that for those who do care, detailed copies of these genealogies are not only kept by my Mother’s family, but also by people who call themselves Coptic Wisdom Seekers, living in Egypt. These are held safely in their hands.

  I hope that someday, someone will write them in a picture graph form, so that they may be seen and therefore more easily understood. But this is a work for someone else...

  Chapter 13

  Nimue, the Enchantress

  Nimue

  I know that Morgan will have written and compiled all that my Mother tells her. However, there may be some things that The Lady Vivianne will have held until the last... She is just that way.

  When my Mother is approaching the hour of her Death, she intends to pass on to Morgan the mantel of Lady of the Lake. This, I do not think she has told Morgan. However, in the event that she should die suddenly, she has given into my hand a signed and sealed manuscript, naming Morgan as her successor.