Voices of the Stars

by Rowena Whaling

  She had a plan. She rolled up a ball of wet mud made of Water and Earth and she rubbed two Stones together with her mighty front clawed feet to create a spark of Fire. Taking a living branch from a Tree, she lit the branch with the Fire and blew her breath upon it to create a very hot Flame. Air, Fire, Water, and Earth had she used. Then to gift her Creation with life, she cut her wrist and bled out her life’s blood upon the wet muddy ball. She became weaker and weaker – still she nurtured the muddy ball, determined to give it her last drop of blood.

  As she bled and as her mud ball cooled, she lay herself down beside it to keep it warm and safe even whilst the burning branch had extinguished and turned to ash.

  She continued to weaken... But before she breathed out her last breath, she saw to her joy and great amazement that the ball began to crack open as if it were an egg. There inside there were two Human babies, one male and one female. They looked very strange to her.

  Then an awful thought came to her – who would feed them? Who would teach them? She fretted mightily. But just before she died, a great Idea came upon her.

  You see, Dragons bleed in great large drops of blood – so as she had just enough strength left to drop her last drop of blood, she dropped it into the babies’ hungry open mouths. Then she hissed, “Eat the bloody mud and ash, oh my Creatures of earthly Elements.” Then she howled a beautiful Deathsong with her last great breath. Within this Magical song she left knowledge of all of the Cosmic Mysteries to the babes as well as the gift of creativity and Love of music, poetry and dance.

  All of the other Dragons looked down from the Stars in great sorrow, knowing that their sister had sacrificed herself for the babies. They held counsel together and vowed to protect this new kind, which held the last earthly drop of Dragons’ blood.

  But as ages passed, the Humans became less and less like Dragons. That is to say that although they had been gifted with Dragon intelligence – well almost – they lost the Dragons’ heart. Most of them lost the ability to see and feel the Spirit Realms and could no longer hear the Dragons’ call. Even worse than this, they became haughty, vain, and selfish. So far away from the first Humans’ nature had they become, that even the gifted and sincere could only see Dragons when Dragons made great effort to be seen. As Time went by less and less did the Dragons care to be seen.

  Realizing this, the Dragons held that they would fervently guard their own treasures – which are the Wisdoms of the Ages – by Flame and by terror, to assure that only true seekers could breach the entrances of their Caverns.

  Or so does my imaginary tale go...

  Still I do wonder sometimes if there is not a remnant of Dragon blood in me – for I have felt its Humming and Drumming every moment of my life since I stood in that frozen Mist in the center of that Fiery dance of Stones and heard my Great Teacher’s call.

  Chapter 23

  The 12th Battle Strategy

  Arthur

  In the eleventh year of my reign...

  Should I have to account as to where the years have flown, I would surely fail.

  In my own defense, I have been very busy running a Kingdom and fighting battles.

  Some things, it seems, never change: my Mother’s beauty – she looks as young as when I married Gwenyfar – oh yes, my marriage does not change, my friendships – all but for the fact that two of my Companions of the “Seven of Battles” have lost their lives in skirmishes and battles against the Saxons. All has been well with my dear teacher and councilor, Gwyddion, and with my brother Bedwyr. The alliance still holds strong.

  Almost every year we have travelled to Table Rock for games and political talks. Every year I have supported the Games of Lleu on the Isle of Apples, and upon three of our year-turns I spent the Longest Night with Bedwyr and our families at Dumnonia. The other Longest Nights I have spent with Morgan and the Lady, celebrating and being included in their Sacred Rites atop the Tor, and for all of these I am grateful. But, history? No, these years have rolled by in the mean events of a plain, mortal man, not warranting historical measure – not, at least in my way of reckoning.

  However, we have fought eleven battles against marauding Teutons.

  By the fourth year past my crowning, it proved not only to be Saxons who thought to eat up our lands. No, they had been joined in ever-growing numbers by Angles, Jutes, and other Teutons who we have been unable to recognize. Most of these battles we had won – if they can be called wins, for I saw no purpose or gains in them – and some we had lost. In losing these we had lost men and a few villages – only later to regain most of the ravished lands.

  Of course, by then, these villages were filled with the living blood of these Teutons. Simple folk were they, just wanting to live their lives being able to house and feed their children. I had not the heart to slaughter them. So they remained – under the laws of our alliance of peace.

  Beyond these events, my life seems as if every Day has been lived in sameness.

  I thank the Gods for Bedwyr as he is the one who keeps me, shall I say, social. We have continued to frequent taverns and ladies of the Night whenever the occasion was to arise – much to our fun and pleasure, save for the fact that never has there been even a rumour of a woman with child from my philandering. To tell it true, this was a disappointment to me on some level. Even a bastard might become my heir some Day, if he – or she – be worthy. But this fact has also given rise to the hope that Morganna did not become with child from the Night of her treachery toward my body. And – no one has heard from, or of, Morganna since that Night.

  Perhaps I am just tired or overly sentimental, but for whatever reason I am writing this tonight; it is a good and long overdue thing.

  Regarding our twelfth battle called “the battle of Baddon Hill” – which battle was not at Baddon Hill at all...

  There came the morning when we were to leave for battle against a new and deadly influx of combined Teutonic forces. We thought that it should be a decisive battle, for never before had we received reports of so many of their long boats coming toward us. We, of course, had our spies in the thick of the continental Saxon lands to warn us of such a threat.

  I awoke at Dawn, dressed, and went down to my Lady Mother’s Great Hall. The Merlin was there drinking warm, honeyed Spring Water and speaking with Igraine. A Fire of Oak and Ash was burning strongly and it was warming them well, despite the very cold Dawn. Great billows of smoke rose straight up through the round hole in the center of the roof, ascending in an almost perfect spiral pillar. Outside, the Wind coming from across the Western Sea was angry and howling. It was not yet the beginning of the season of Red and Gold Leaves – barely into the Vine Harvest in fact, yet it seemed as though it would ride in ‘with the Teutons, like the Hounds of Hell’...

  So ironic was it – or perhaps so Magical – that Gwyddion, The Merlin always arrived at my side just at the point of his being needed… and this with no warning or summoning! He would just appear at my side – no preamble or explanation, just... “You needed me Arthur?” or “I thought it best to arrive today.” This was the way of it, although sometimes weeks had passed since last we had spoken with one another.

  Igraine and Gwyddion held a long and deep respect and friendship for one another and oft’ Times, when together, were engaged in fervent conversation. This morn was one of those Times. Gwyddion held her hands. This was the scene I saw as I intruded into their private moment. Had she been crying? I abruptly stopped. There was Igraine, with her great Gift of the “Sight.” Had she seen calamity for us in the upcoming battle?

  “Good morning Mother... Gwyddion... I am sorry; it seems that I have interrupted your privacy with one another...

  “Gwyddion, again you come precisely when you are needed – thank you for that... I received word of the true location of the imminent invasion just yesterday. Has Lady Igraine brought you up to date on what is happening?

  “But, my Lady Mother, I see that you are upset! Pray tell me you have not a foreboding toward the o
utcome of this battle.”

  “Arthur, my tears are not spent only for sake of this battle – but also for a more personal loss.”

  Her words smarted me. She knew about Gwenyfar and that there would be no legitimate heir of my body. Had she always known about Morganna’s nocturnal visit to by bedchamber, too? The Gods only know what she knows – about my heart or my sexual desires, failures or betrayals... There had never been any logical point in trying to hide anything from Igraine. Had she not said on the Day of my marriage to Gwenyfar; “She has her reasons and they have nothing to do with you as a person” and that Gwenyfar had much to lose through this marriage? Perhaps she had known all along. But then, why had she not told me? I did remember that upon a long Time ago I had overheard her say to Morgan, “There are Times – for those of us who have the first Gift – the Sight – when we ‘See’ what is to happen and if we give warning regarding those events which might come to be, and if in those cases people pay heed to our warnings the future might be bent toward a more favorable outcome. However, there are other Times when the Weavers have woven unbreakable threads into the carpets of our lives – for reasons only They know. In those cases, although we have seen what will be before it happens, we can only stand still and watch events unfold into the un-changeable future. The second Gift in these circumstances is to know the difference between the two seeings – at which point we must weigh the loss and gain of making these events known. The third Gift is to have the grace of silence, even when our heart screams out to sound the warning. Do you understand, Morgan?”

  Had my marriage been one of those unbreakable threads? Evidently so…

  “But Mother, what do you See of this battle?”

  “Many men of good heart – friend and foe alike – will die on the killing field – and women too. In war, as in all other things, nothing is ever all one way or the other, Arthur. As for those we call enemy, theirs are warring and aggressive cultures. They have only ever been exposed to their Motherland’s ways. Their beautiful, golden, braided women fight as ferociously as do their men. Violence is their creed. They know no other way. It is also so that the soil in their colder countries is not as rich as ours and many of their children starve to Death for the lack of what grows so prolifically here. So, for the people who have allied themselves with us, as well as for those who are invading our Islands, I weep. I weep for the Fatherless children and the widows who will be left alive in a strange land – some with no family, friends, or comfort. Arthur, there can be no battle without losses on both sides. And yes, I have ‘Seen’ many of your good and brave companions die or be horribly wounded in this battle.”

  “Not Bedwyr, Mother! Say it is not so!”

  “Oh, no my dear one, Bedwyr will not die, nor will you, Arthur. But I do beg of you to keep a watch on Gwyddion and Chronos, so that they be well guarded on their every side. I know that Gwyddion always watches from a Hilltop or dense grove of Trees – far from the thick of battle – yet I have fear that some treachery is afoot, aimed towards his person on the morn of battle.”

  “You never need beg anything of me. I will heed your warning well. Gwyddion, I will personally choose those who will stand your guard. Or... perhaps you should help me choose them.”

  “Yes... yes Arthur, I will...”

  “Lady Mother, I do not want named to me those who will be lost. But I pray you Hum Magic songs for us and beseech the Great Mother Goddess to let this battle be a worthy beginning of true peace.”

  “I will, Arthur.”

  “Gods’ will it be so...” said The Merlin and I in unison.

  “Good. Let us retire to my personal chamber, out of anyone else’s hearing, to allow me to share my strategy for this battle with both of you.”

  As we entered my personal chamber, I poured some Watered wine for my Mother and I, and some more honeyed Water for Gwyddion. In our privacy we spoke of many things. The most pertinent and unusual was about a Dream that I had had.

  The Dream...

  “In the early hours of a morning, near two Moon’s Dances ago, I had a strange Dream. It went thus wise...

  “I awoke from my slumber, arose from my bed, left my bed chamber and walked all the way to the very precipice of the high and rocky outcropping over the Ocean, upon which this fortress stands. All the while I was, in truth, still fast asleep. Deepest darkness had descended the land. But then I saw what could not be... The Sun began to rise in the West, to glint the Western Waters. “No” cried I, “the Sun rises in the East!”

  “Nay, but I twist all around” – said a sardonic voice – “I am Loki – God of dis-order and confusion. I have used my foolery well for in such tricksy ways I always find delight. This Time it was by making a wager with Sol – which I won – then collected Her forfeit by summoning Her into your eyes...

  “Now come closer, oh blinded one, so that ye may stumble and fall into the churning deep... For it is said... ‘What danger thou cans’t see, thou cans’t defend thyself against.’”

  “Of a sudden, I cast my eyes downward, with my hand blocking out the light, and lo, there was my bronze long body shield lying on the ground beside me. I thought, “What is that doing here?” and then, “Oh yes, but this is only a Dream.” So, I picked the shield – which of a sudden was polished to a high sheen – and held it in before me to reflect the Sunlight, which was then thrown back at Loki, who hung suspended over the Sea in front of me. The reflection hit him with full force and tumbled Him head over heels and spun Him round and round, back to the Sun, who then swallowed Him up whole.

  “Then all was dark again and I was back to my bed, sitting full upright.

  “What could it mean? Upon this I pondered for seven Nights and seven Days. Then understanding dawned upon me.

  “So, five weeks ago I sent the order out to all of my Guard and Shield Bearers, to polish and buff their long-body shields ‘until they shine like mirrors.’

  “Most of my Guard and Shield Bearers lived close to our fortress in Dumnonia. Some lived in re-fortified old Roman barracks and some, who had families and lived in cottages, were spread as far afield as Aquae Sulis, but to all had my word been delivered.

  “Great caution must be taken in all matters regarding this battle. It is our twelfth and I pray our last for a long and long Time. Because, remember, the number thirteen, which signifies our Moon Mother, is also the most Sacred number to the Teutons’ powerful Goddess Freya. I have felt her energy myself, in my bedchamber escapades with Saxon women.” I blushed. “Pray excuse me, my Lady Mother... But powerful is She. It is said that half of the souls of the bravest Warriors who die on battlefields belong to Freya – to keep with Herself in her realm of the dead! Were She to be a greedy Goddess, a thirteenth battle may go awry for us. So, let us not tempt Fate – all must go as I have planned.”

  The Strategy...

  “The formations will be thus... Bedwyr will lead the Vanguard. Two rows of Long Shield Bearers will take front line. Behind these will stand two rows of our Archers, who will be ready to let fly – or to run left and right out of the way of our Cavalry, as needed – at my command. Last in the Vanguard formation will be our finest Foot Warriors, just to the rear of the Archers.

  “Lucian will command the left flank, where the Picti will be – we hope – and Kai will lead the right...

  “Gwyddion, you will watch from a protected Hill and do what Magic you will for the right outcome – and that all be over with as few Deaths as possible on either side.

  “Before the action commences I will remove myself to some elevated point that is in clear view of all of my Commanders – where my Standard Bearers will already have been stealthily waiting. I will be a-mount of course in the event that I am needed upon the field.

  “Hopefully I will find the terrain suitable to these formations.

  “At our last skirmish, my Companions overtook and confiscated three Saxon ships from the defeated and fleeing invaders. These were very interesting in the fact that, while many were built
only to be rowed, these were to be sailed by the power of the Wind. Of course, Roman Ships have always had sails, but most Saxon Ships have not. One of these confiscated Ships had a Boar’s head and two had Dragon’s heads at their prows. They were in good seaworthy condition.

  “Whilst examining the long boats for possible later use, my men found hiding in one of them two enemy Saxon men, two children, and one woman – all of whom were alive and seemed well although hungry. Even so were they terrified for their lives! The two men were speaking bravely, albeit nervously, in Saxon words, which were fortunately understood and translated by one of our own Saxon men.

  They tried to reason that even though they were enemy Warriors and therefore expected to be executed by my men, the Woman, dressed in battle garb, was only a Shield Bearer and had not killed anyone. They suggested that she be kept as a slave. As for the children, they said that these were not their sons, but were slaves, taken aboard to do service for the Shipmen – and so were also not deserving of Death. All of our men standing there laughed at these assertions, they being obvious lies. The two boys looked exactly like one of the men and in fact very similar to the other… their Father and their uncle perhaps? Yet my men did not run them through, for I was not far from them and they would wait until I gave orders regarding this matter.

  I, taking opportunity, whilst it be given, bought for a price the service of those same two found Saxon Shipmen – who will sail aboard these recovered ships, so as to act as interpreters or spokesmen, should our ships be called out to or challenged during the battle. To these men, I promised great wealth and safety for themselves, the woman, and their captured children. I also promised to them a plot of land, oxen, seeds, a Goat and a cottage – if they comply with my orders – or at their choice, immediate Death to themselves and their woman and children, if not.”