Voices of the Stars

by Rowena Whaling

  But then, I am bothered... even mortified, to share these Arts with my brother Arthur. I myself am repulsed by the thought. Not so much perhaps, because of the blood shared between us – for in many lands brothers and sisters marry in Royal lines to keep the blood pure. This is a long accepted practice. But, although I Love Arthur as much as I could Love anyone on Earth, I cannot Love him in the way that he Loves me. What harm might this ‘Sacred’ act cause to him, to his heart, his life, his Kingship? How could things – feelings – ever be the same between us? Oh, GREAT GODDESS, Fulfiller of Desires, please let this play out to harm none, for I would do most anything to not cause harm to Arthur. Anything! Just ask it of me! If there be any way out of this, place your will or desire – any bargain that you might accept – into my consciousness. I will do it, whatever it may be! This I promise on my word as your Priestess and daughter.

  Then came the Day!

  I was secluded on the Day of the feast. Only Makyr and Lady Vivianne were allowed to be with me. I was Ritually cleansed, massaged and rubbed with oils of juniper, cedar and the musk of a she-Wolf. My robe, of softest buckskin, was made for me by Makyr, who was my closest friend on the Isle. It was beaded with dried red Tree berries and it felt gloriously sensuous. Red slippers had she made for me... But curiously, she had embroidered them – exquisitely – on their soles – with her name: Makyr. I thanked her for all she had done for me. Then I asked her why she had embroidered her name on the soles of the slippers. She threw her arms around me and held me very close to her body. She caressed my hair – which she had just scented – and kissed my mouth. “Because” she said, “with every step you take toward him tonight, you step on my heart, my dearest one.”

  I choked up and began to speak, but Makr gently held her fingers to my mouth...

  “SHH... now... it will be alright. I know this is hard for you as well, Morgan – for different reasons. But, this Night’s doing is your Sacred duty. I honour that. You must know that I would have you as my lover. I adore even the soles of your feet. And, although I know you will never want me in the way I want you, I will always Love you and be your dear and truest friend. Never again, I promise, will I bring discomfort to you by my feelings or actions as I have just done. I would never try to persuade you to my bed. Forgive me, Morgan, for loving you... but it is something I cannot help. Perhaps it is the crafty acts of the Trickster God, the One who shifts from Fox to Man, who has made these cruel jokes, to entangle and test us. But, we are taught that we each have to play out the pains and responsibilities of this life – which we chose for ourselves from the Time before our conception. We have chosen our paths and we must accept these obstacles and trials. Nay, we must bless them, for they lead us ever closer to the Spiritual Enlightenment which we seek.”

  She let me go.

  “Oh Makyr, I do Love you well and all the more so for your Wisdom. You astound me. Never worry about our friendship. I only hope, one Day, to live in faith and assuredness such as yours. You will never know just how much you have helped me today.”

  Then, I kissed her mouth – a chaste kiss – in return.

  That Night the Wind howled like a pack of Wolfs. The Treetops were swaying from side to side; their great boughs groaning, singing their own song. The Bel-fires – both at the top of the Tor – amidst the ring of Standing Stones – and at the bottom, in a large clearing surrounded by deep Woods – were burning wildly, their Flames whipping in every direction. Two great Fires, sparking high the sexual energy of the Antlered God of the Wild Dance, along with everyone else’s. It was portentous, and all who were there, were joyously filled with the thrill of anticipation.

  Everyone would play tonight the age-old mating game. Many of the women would take their pleasures throughout the Night with any man – or woman – they chose to. Although, I must note here, that there are always some couples who would only ever lie with each other, because of their great Love for and devotion to one another.

  Most everyone was drugged or drunk on fermented juice of Berries, honey mead – or purely on lust! But there would be no rape! A rapist would be torn apart and cast into the Fire for their treachery! For, this was a Night of Sacred Love and of pleasure – to bless the Earth and Her productiveness and to ensure that babies, both Human and Animal, would come to birth and thrive during this coming year.

  Any child born of this Night’s frolic would be one of the “Blessed Ones,” born of the Gods – wild and free.

  All was in readiness:

  Vivianne entered the pavilion that had been erected as my dressing quarters at the top of the Tor – not far from the Circle of Stones.

  “The Fires have been lit... It has begun! Here, Morgan, drink of this Sacred cup, which I, myself, have prepared for you.”

  “Yes, Mother,” said I. And so I did. It was warm and bittersweet tasting. I began to feel a weird sensation in my whole body. It was a pleasurable feeling. There was a tingling in the small nub of flesh near the opening of my vagina. So, this was part of the Mystery, too...

  “My dear Morgan, I place this veil over your head and face, so that you may be the Goddess and every woman. Yet, truly Goddess you will be. She will enter your body, thoughts and Spirit. Her words and Wisdoms you will utter. This, Morgan, is the greatest privilege on Earth. Go out now and dance the Fire! Dance as you have never danced before! The young Stag is well drunk, and drunk, too, is he with the cup of lust for the Goddess. So that, woman to man, Enchantress to King, Goddess to God, you two may bless the Grain, the land, and Her children.”

  As I had been instructed, I entered the Ritual circle...

  I called to the Goddess:

  “GREAT GODDESS of Nine, You with so many faces: On this blessed Night, I call to You as The White Moon Goddess... I, Your Priestess, humbly entreat You... that You cast your light upon and within me... I ask that I may be Your vessel... Your chalice... Your Well... That my Lord may drink deeply of this Night’s work... Oh, Great Beauty of the Night sky, fill me with your power and your Love. Let your words, your Wisdom, your blessings – and your pleasure – be mine upon this Night... And may all of Your children be blessed with fertility!”

  I danced around the Fire as the Goddess Veiled. All of our third and forth level Priestesses and Priests were there dancing with me – conjuring up the Spirits of the Night.

  Makyr and some others were drumming for the dancers and everyone was clapping their hands in a steady, persistent beat. The Merlin was there, too. He had accompanied Lady Vivianne to the top of the Tor. Only he did not dance, but stood aside, playing an eerie melody upon his flute.

  Everything surrounding me – even the Air itself – was filled with a sense of Magic and surreality... No, it was more than that – Oh, words fail me! But I knew that within that Circle of power, the Ancestors danced amoung us.

  A great horn sounded somewhere at the bottom of the Tor. It was to be the first of two. A very loud cheer arose – we heard it all the way up here! Then a mad rush of people was running up the last of the spiral path from whence they had been waiting. The closer they came, the louder and louder they were. Finally, fifty or sixty or more bodies were dancing, clapping, and cheering around the circle – awaiting the arrival of the Stag God.

  They were becoming more and more drunk on drugged wine and lust – all but for The Merlin. Everyone was Chanting, except for the Goddess Veiled.

  The Chant was this:

  “The Stag and the King are one!

  The King and the land are one!

  Tonight, tonight it has begun,

  The God, the King, and the Stag are one...”

  Over and over in a more and more hypnotic rhythm they Chanted, and then the sound shifted, to just the drumming and the clapping of hands...

  A new Chant arose:

  Where is the Stag who comes to the rut?

  To unveil the Goddess,

  Bless all with good luck...

  Oh, where is the Stag?

  Come quick as you could...

&n
bsp; For then may we all run into the Wood!

  The Chant continued to change and become bawdier and bawdier, until the second great horn sounded... The Time had come for Arthur and his companions to race up the final section of the path to the top of the Tor...

  Then... there He was! The Stag King! He was magnificent! His body completely naked, blue dots painted upon His forehead, on his eyelids, and over His cheekbones. So strange was it when He closed His eyes – to see the dots, where a moment before had been eyes of piercing blue... His whole form, so chiseled – yet in ever-changing motion... And, of course, that which all were awaiting... His mighty cock, standing straight up as the Giant of Cerne’s! He wore the traditional full Stag’s headpiece complete with great antlers, which covered the top of His head and down to the middle of his shoulder blades. Seven tines each had the antlers, for the seven Sacred directions.

  I was to hide myself from Him, within the circle of dancers, ever weaving in and out amoung them. He was to proclaim Himself as the “God” and pursue the Enchantress who would be His lover... until I was caught. Then He was to throw back the veil, to look upon the face of His Goddess – and kiss me with great passion.

  Arthur

  Betrayed I was by my body, just as Morgan had told me I would be. I was inflamed with passion, ready for the rut...

  Oh, it was not desire for an Enchantress or anticipation which had brought me to this state, but the drugged wine my men had bade me drink. Not only was I well drunk, but also Bedwyr, and too, all the men who were in my company at the bottom of the Tor. Only Gwyddion had abstained.

  More and more had we toasted, then gibed – they taunting me with licentious suggestions for the Night’s doing. The more we drank, the hotter grew the Fires of our loins. But none would relieve themselves until the appointed Time – and even then not until the Stag God had captured His Goddess and whisked Her away.

  I had planned to please the Enchantress well – She who would be the Goddess to me this Night. For as King I must care for and please my people. This was my honour and Sacred trust. If I was to be King, I must be King first and man second. Or were the two one on this Night?

  Yet I knew that it would be Morgan’s face I would see behind my closed eyes, when my climax was reached.

  “Oh, Morgan...” I prayed, “Hear me when I call out your name. For this Love will always be for you, as you will always be the face of the Goddess to me.”

  The great Fires had been lit. We heard the drumming and Chanting coming from the Tor, then echoing off of the Water of the Lake. There was a throbbing in our ears like the throbbing in our loins.

  The women were there in the circle already, of course. For, each woman would be the face of the Goddess to the man or men they lay with this Night. We, the men, must pursue them until they let us catch them. When we heard the second horn sound, we shouted one great cheer and raised one last flagon in salute! Then we were all making our way up the spiral path to the top of the Tor. When we were almost there, we heard the women already in the circle clapping their hands and Chanting:

  Where is the Stag?

  Where is the King?

  Where is the Antlered God?

  We men all sprinted the rest of the way up the path and jumped into the ring of dancers and danced as we called out:

  Where is my beauty?

  Where is my Love?

  Where is my Dream for this Night?

  I held back for a moment... Then, when I entered the circle, all became silent. Only the Wind and dancing flames could be heard.

  To honour that part of my blood that was of the Clans who I would serve as King, I chose as my call to the God the words of an ancient poem. As I pranced round the circle, feeling more and more like the God within me, I cried out:

  I am a Stag of seven tines...

  I am a wide flood on a plane...

  I am a Wind on the deep Waters...

  I am a shining tear of the Sun...

  I am a Hawk on a cliff...

  I am fair amoung Flowers...

  I am a God who sets the head afire with smoke

  All the while I was strutting the circle – trying to find the hiding Veiled One. As soon as I stopped my Chant – with the power of the God coursing through me – I saw her. Dancing wildly, I chased and pursued her, weaving in and out of the spectators standing in the circle, and calling out to Her until She was caught in my arms.

  When I lifted her veil to kiss her, there was an audible gasp from all the participants seeing who She was... Morgan!!! I was speechless... horrified... and thrilled beyond what I could bear! I could not move; I could only stare into the face of my beloved.

  She had invoked the Goddess to enter herself before the Stag God was summoned to the Tor. It was not now Morgan’s, but the shifting face of the Goddess looking back into mine. I saw eternity in her eyes...

  She began to speak, in a voice both terrible and beautiful. Quoth She:

  “Face to face in a Time that is not a Time... and a place that is not a place, I hail and welcome you, Great Horned One... My consort of the Eternal Present... Drink of this cup... Goddess to God, Enchantress to King, Woman to man...”

  I thought, but did not say aloud... “Drink of this cup? Cup of Death?” In stark realization I thought – I am the sacrificial King of old!

  She continued...

  “As Enchantress and King we honour the Great Ones of Creation... But upon this one Night, as Goddess and God, we shall lie in the throes of ecstasy, to bless this land and all who dwell herein... On this one glorious Night, we, together, will conjure the Magic of Creation! Here – In the Land of Myth, In the Realm of Magic – In the Beginning of all – we stand... you and I, my King, waiting to be joined in form.”

  At that moment – for the first Time, I fully realised that we were the hands of Creation Itself.

  I answered: “Goddess and God, female and male... We are the perfect polarity of life – the breathing in and the breathing out of the Cosmos!”

  These were the ancient words that I had memorized. Yes, but when I spoke them, they and all of this – the Tor, the Stone Circle, the dancing flames, the Ritual – became the only true reality... as though the daily lives we lived were but a Dream without substance... shadows only in the thoughts of Man.

  Morgan

  Arthur spoke as if Entranced...

  “Hail and welcome my Goddess, my Love...”

  He hesitated!!! Another intake of breath came from those all around. He had forgotten the last ancient words!

  Silence...

  Then Vivianne raised her hands and said:

  “All that is, is... and yet everything changes. She changes as She wishes, and as She wishes, all things change. I beseech You, Goddess – Go now and change the world! Make a King! – one such as the world has been waiting for. ‘King of the Holy Blood’.” Vivianne wavered, almost collapsed. Then she hissed – “Go now!”

  At her words, Arthur and I ran down toward the Wood. A few moments after we left, another great shout came from amoung the celebrants gathered at the Circle. So then did everyone else atop and around the Tor, run down the spiral path and into the Greenwood for the merrymaking.

  Only Vivianne and The Merlin remained at the Bel-fire.

  Lady Vivianne sang the Chant of Acceptance, with tears falling down her cheeks. Her words were:

  Shake the bones, grind them to dust

  If live we will, then die we must

  Shake the bones, stir the soul

  If laughter is silver, then tears are gold

  Round and round, the Dance of Death

  Moment to moment and breath to breath

  Ashes to ashes, beginning to end

  Death to Death, to live again!

  Ceridwen’s cauldron

  Hecate’s keys

  Ishtar’s Dragons

  Innana’s Bees

  What will be, will be, will be...

  What will be, will be, will be...

  What will be, will be, will be..
.

  We had to run deeply into the Woods to arrive at our destination. Although it was only I who knew the way, Arthur followed quickly down the path, which had been cleared for us to make the going easier. Arthur was running so fast! I was flushed and out of breath – he, of course, was Warrior trained... This run and ten Times more would not have affected him. Yes, he was all of what a Warrior and the Horned God should be. The Consort of a Goddess! He was beautiful! And he was desirable...

  I was holding Arthur’s hand as we of a sudden came upon the clearing in the midst of a grove of Oaks. It seemed as though even what clouds had been on the Tor this Night – as well as the heavy Mist we had run though, had all blown away to allow my Lady, this first full Moon of Summer – to smile down upon us. There, in the clearing, had been erected for us a canopy made of Willow boughs, bent and braided into fantastical shapes of Stags, Dragons, Stars, and Moons. It had been draped with finely beaded and embroidered blood red cloth. The cloth had been woven on the Isle, of course, and was of such a delicate Weave that the Moon’s light shone right through it. Gossamer as a Spider’s web was it... Was that to remind us of the part the Weavers of Fate had played in all of this? The beautiful canopy cascaded to the ground from beneath the ornate finials and spread out in waves of soft folds at each corner of the bed. Long silk ribbons hung from the canopy’s edges, as well as from the branches of the Oaks that hung around and above us.