The Tall Stones

by Moyra Caldecott

  In this state she was no longer aware of the darkness as darkness, but as the night sky, immensely vast and filled with countless stars. When she had looked at the sky at night on other occasions she had seen the myriad sparks of light dotted about apparently at random. Now she was aware of it as an intricate but definite pattern.

  She saw it as a pattern, each star linked with each other star in a relationship that was unmistakable. It was as though fine gold lines, as fine as spider’s web, were drawn between each spot of light to make an exquisite network, complex and yet ultimately simple.

  But even as she grasped this the vision was altering slightly. The web was not flat but had depth as well. The stars she had thought were all the same distance from her appeared now to vary, some nearer, some further away. The golden threads linked them not only sideways, but backwards and forwards as well.

  She felt herself moving nearer to them, somehow being among them so that the network of fine gold lines was around her in every direction . . . stars were around her in every direction.

  As the sensation of movement grew she realized that it was not only herself that was moving. The stars, the golden lines, the darkness itself . . . everything was moving and everything was changing in relationship to everything else in subtle ways at every moment, and yet the overall web of relationship was still there . . . the threads never broke . . . only adjusted, stretched and altered.

  And still as she moved the vision developed further.

  It seemed to her the points of light that were the stars were not only moving, but were growing. Or was it that she was approaching them?

  They were no longer points of shapeless fire, but huge spheres rolling through the darkness, immense balls of concentrated power.

  As they rolled the sound of them roared in her head until sound and vision so overwhelmed her, she found herself screaming – a small insignificant creature, back on Maal’s floor, trying to hold the full fearful magnificence of the Universe at bay.

  She dropped the small sphere of stone and saw Maal move swiftly to catch it.

  She flung herself down and beat her fists upon the hard floor.

  ‘It is too much!’ she cried despairingly. ‘I cannot bear it alone!’

  Maal had quietly and quickly wrapped the small sphere in its coverings of bark cloth and had put it safely aside. He could now turn his attention to the hysterical girl.

  ‘You will not be alone,’ he said. ‘Kyra! Kyra! No one is alone.’

  She sobbed.

  ‘Was it not beautiful?’ he said quietly when he could see that she had cried enough.

  She nodded miserably.

  ‘Are you not excited to be part of such a beauty?’

  Tearfully she nodded again.

  ‘Well then, accept it. Enjoy it.’

  She sat and thought about what she had just seen. Already the splendour was passed and she only had a shadowy memory of the experience, but even that was more beautiful and exciting than anything she had ever known before.

  Enjoy it? Why not? She could no longer fight against it. As Maal had said, deep inside her the forces that were at work had already made a choice. She was only hurting herself by fighting against them all the time.

  He saw the change in her and was glad.

  ‘You may tell me the configuration now,’ she said calmly. ‘I am ready.’

  He smiled gently. The priest was gone. The man was back.

  ‘You know it already,’ he said smiling at her.

  She looked surprised, a line forming between her eyes.

  ‘Was I supposed to get it from . . .?’ and she pointed at the stone sphere.

  ‘You did,’ he said simply.

  She shook her head slowly, trying to remember.

  ‘I think I did not.’

  ‘Do not worry about it,’ Maal said. ‘You know it at the level that matters.’

  ‘But I can hardly remember . . . I remember a pattern . . . but I cannot remember exactly . . .’

  ‘It will come to you when you need it,’ Maal said confidently.

  She looked doubtful, but if he said so, perhaps it would be so.

  ‘Promise me,’ he said seriously, ‘if it becomes impossible for me to go into the circle on the night of the Rising Star, you will.’

  She sat very still, her heart beating painfully. How could she promise that!

  ‘Promise!’ he repeated, and he spoke with urgency and authority.

  ‘I promise,’ she found herself saying in a very small, thin voice.

  ‘Louder!’ he commanded.

  ‘I promise,’ she said, this time with a conviction that amazed her.

  He relaxed.

  ‘Good,’ he said, ‘now we can begin the lesson.’

  Chapter 13

  The Burials and the Promise

  It was three days later that Karne and Kyra woke to a feeling of oppressive malevolence in the air. The sky was obscured by heavy cloud which hung, grey and discouraging, neither falling as rain nor blowing away. Kyra particularly felt uneasy. She wondered what would happen if the sky was cloudy for the night of the rising star. What use would knowing or not knowing the correct configuration be if none of them could even see the stars? It crossed her mind that perhaps there would be ways of sensing it that she did not yet know about, but this line of thought was cut short by her brother Ji tugging at her arm and wanting her to follow him.

  ‘What is it?’ she said impatiently and irritably.

  ‘We have finished the boat,’ Ji said excitedly. ‘Come and see!’

  ‘Not now, Ji,’ she said. ‘I am busy.’

  ‘You do not look busy,’ he said, disappointed.

  ‘One does not necessarily have to look busy to be busy,’ she said grandly, and turned away. He stood contemplating her back forlornly.

  ‘You never pay any attention to the family these days, Kyra,’ her mother said, witnessing the incident. ‘What is the matter?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She wished they would leave her alone. She had things on her mind.

  ‘I think there is something the matter,’ her mother persisted.

  But luckily for Kyra, Karne arrived at this moment and Ji pounced on him. Their noisy exchange of friendly blows diverted their mother’s attention from Kyra and she could slip away.

  She was sorry she had been so short tempered with Ji, and when he appeared again, somewhat dishevelled from the roll about with Karne, she asked to see the boat. Joyfully he led her to the secret place they knew so well, pulled back the cover of leaves and sticks, and revealed a tidy, well constructed little boat, that looked as though it could withstand the onslaught of the waves quite well.

  ‘It is good!’ she cried in surprise. ‘I did not know that you and Okan were so skilful!’

  ‘I did most of the work,’ Ji said proudly.

  She ruffled his hair and laughed.

  ‘You had better not let Okan hear you say that.’

  ‘I want to be a fisherman,’ Ji said. ‘We are going to try it out quite soon, will you come?’

  ‘Oh, well . . .’ she hesitated. ‘I do not think I have time, but I am sure Karne . . .’

  ‘Karne is always too busy these days,’ Ji said sadly.

  ‘I am sure Karne will . . . even if he is busy. After all, it is his boat.’

  ‘Will you ask him?’

  ‘Ask him yourself.’

  ‘He always listens to you.’

  Kyra laughed.

  ‘Not always.’

  ‘He does not seem to care about the boat now.’

  ‘Of course he does! It is just that he has other things he has to do now.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘Just . . . things.’

  ‘You and Karne are always going off by yourselves. He never takes us anywhere anymore.’ Ji’s voice sounded miserable.

  Kyra put her arm around him, full of sympathy.

  ‘Oh Ji,’ she said, ‘I am sorry.’

  * * * *

  She left Ji lovingly c
overing up his prized possession, and went in search of Karne.

  She found him looking for her. His face was worried and gloomy.

  ‘What is wrong?’

  ‘I do not know,’ but he looked very anxious. ‘There is something about to happen. I can feel it. Maal’s tomb was finished yesterday and all the strangers are talking as though the burial is to be soon. I saw Wardyke going to Maal’s house a little while ago. I have been looking for you everywhere! Where have you been?’

  ‘I have been to see the boat. It is finished,’ Kyra said.

  Normally Karne would have been interested in this piece of news, but today he was preoccupied.

  ‘You must come with me,’ he said, turning towards Maal’s house. ‘We must see what is going on.’

  ‘But,’ said Kyra, ‘it is important Wardyke does not notice our interest in Maal!’

  ‘I know. That is why I want you to come. We will hide somewhere nearby and perhaps you can listen in to their minds or something.’

  ‘I cannot do it just like that!’ complained Kyra.

  ‘Oh,’ he said impatiently, ‘there is no time to fuss about what you can do and what you cannot. Just do it!’

  She started a resentful reply and then thought better of it. It was important that she did what she could to protect Maal, more important than whether she was irritated with Karne’s attitude or not.

  She followed him and they tucked themselves behind some bushes.

  ‘Is Wardyke still inside?’ she whispered.

  He shrugged and shook his head.

  ‘I have been away looking for you for ages. Can you not tell if he is inside or not?’

  She stayed very still and concentrated, but nothing would come to her. She was still aware of the pricking of the grass against her leg, the sound of Karne breathing and moving from time to time beside her. She was still aware of herself crouching uncomfortably behind the bushes trying to get in touch with Maal. If she had learnt nothing else that summer, she had learnt that her powers could not work until she had completely forgotten herself and somehow merged absolutely with something or someone else.

  ‘It is no good,’ she whispered at last. ‘I am trying too hard. It will not come.’

  Karne gave an expression of disgust.

  ‘I cannot help it,’ she complained bitterly.

  ‘Try!’

  ‘I am trying! That is the trouble. I need more time to relax first.’

  ‘We have no time!’

  ‘I know! I know.’

  She looked ready to cry.

  ‘Oh no!’ he muttered, thumping his forehead with the palm of his hand in frustration.

  At that moment a sound from the village called their attention away from themselves and Maal’s house. It was the sound of the horn that was blown when a special meeting or ceremony was to take place. The sound of its weird hollow call went out across the valleys and the hills, disturbing even the animals in the forests and putting a flock of jet black birds to flight from the grain fields. They wheeled above the village, their wings adding a strange resonance to the sound of the horn, their dark, shadowy bodies in flight adding a touch of the ominous to the already oppressive air.

  Some of the villagers had started wending their way to the meeting stone, while others were preparing to leave their fields and their work.

  Karne and Kyra were in a quandary.

  ‘What shall we do?’ Kyra asked anxiously.

  Karne hesitated.

  ‘I think we ought to see if Maal is all right before we go,’ he said at last.

  ‘Wardyke will be at the meeting stone. He has forbidden us to have a meeting without his presence. But I wish we knew if he was there already.’

  ‘There is nothing else to be done,’ said Karne, with sudden determination. ‘I will have to go to Maal’s house.’

  ‘Why you? Perhaps I should go,’ Kyra said.

  ‘No. You are the only one who can work with Maal to contact the Lords of the Sun. It is even more important that you escape suspicion than that I do.’

  This was true. She nodded, but she wished that neither of them had to go.

  ‘Wait here and keep watch for me,’ Karne whispered and before Kyra could say anything more he was gone. He walked swiftly and boldly up to Maal’s house as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing.

  Kyra saw him pause at the door to call out and then she saw him go inside. She did not have long to wait before he came running out. He seemed shocked and distressed and came leaping over the uneven ground almost as though he were flying. He flung himself down beside her, out of breath.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Maal is gone,’ he gasped, ‘and all his things are smashed about and strewn everywhere. It looks as though there has been a struggle in there. It also looks as though whoever did it was looking for something among Maal’s possessions.’

  ‘Oh, Karne!’ She was horrified. ‘That poor old man!’

  Shock on Karne’s face was giving way to anger. He stood up and his face was black with rage.

  ‘Karne!’ she cried. She leapt up and seized his arm. ‘We must not do anything wrong now.’

  ‘I will tell you what I will do to Wardyke!’ he snarled, shaking himself free.

  ‘You must not, Karne! We dare not! We have a real responsibility now and Maal is relying on us.’

  Karne stood still, his face still thunderous.

  ‘Karne!’ she pleaded.

  He looked at her with smouldering frustration.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I will hold back for now . . . but just wait . . .’

  She had realized very quickly that for once she had to be in charge of the situation. An image of Maal’s special stone sphere came most clearly and insistently to her. She knew he would not want that to be in the hands of Wardyke. Perhaps that was what he had been looking for.

  She thought swiftly.

  ‘You go to the Meeting, Karne,’ she said decisively. ‘Keep control of yourself and do nothing to arouse suspicion. It is very important. Promise.’

  ‘I promise,’ he said unwillingly.

  ‘See what is happening. I will go to Maal’s house to see if I can rescue any of his most precious possessions. I will take them to Fern for safe keeping. She can bury them in the wood somewhere until we can give them back to Maal.’

  She was not prepared to admit even to herself that she might not see Maal alive again.

  Karne nodded affirmation and was off to the village immediately.

  * * * *

  No one saw Kyra slip into the old priest’s house and she was not disturbed in her search. Karne was right. The place was a mess. His handsome drinking vessels and water jars were smashed to pieces on the floor. What clothes and rugs he had were ripped and flung around. The collection of delicate sea urchin shells he kept in orderly rows ranging from the smallest to the largest were powdered on the shelf on which they had stood as though a hard fist had smashed down upon them.

  Her heart beating loudly, she felt in the dark corner from where she had seen Maal take the stone sphere and, miraculously, it was still there. She held it close to her heart in its bark wrappings, thankful she could rescue at least one of Maal’s precious possessions.

  She looked around, tears beginning to come to her eyes at the devastation of the room in which she had spent so many interesting hours. She would have stood there indefinitely if she had not suddenly ‘felt’ the approach of someone.

  She rushed to the door and looked out. Thorn was approaching. She had not heard him for he was too far away. She had ‘felt’ his approach.

  A lump of fear began to rise in her throat. She stood poised, uncertain what to do. Thorn was approaching rapidly, a burning branch in his hand. She looked round frantically for somewhere to hide, but the burning branch suggested he might be intending to burn the house and if she were inside she would certainly be burnt with it. She had seen this kind of house burn before. Wood and straw, twigs and furs, turn to fl
ame fast.

  Another thought came to her distraught mind. If he was burning the house, Maal must be dead!

  Before the full implications of this could take effect, however, she saw Thorn pause on the path and turn to look back at the village. He was straining his neck to see the meeting stone as though he were looking for a signal.

  Like a shadow Kyra slipped out of the house and ran for cover, clutching the small stone sphere close to her, some of the bark cloth wrappings working loose as she ran. Her fear sharpened her instincts and she found a route to Fern’s house that was quicker and safer than any that she had ever taken before.

  * * * *

  Meanwhile, at the meeting place, nearly all the community were gathered. Karne was hovering on the outskirts, occasionally looking anxiously in the direction of Maal’s house. Strangely, the Elders were not on the platform in their usual formation but scattered amongst the villagers looking as puzzled and as ill at ease as their fellow men. Only Wardyke was on the platform and he was in his most magnificent cloak with a tall head-dress of hard dark leather and tall black feathers to add even greater height to his stature. He was standing still as rock with his arms folded on his chest, only his smouldering eyes moving continually, scanning the faces of the cowed people below him.

  Karne had the presence of mind to slip behind a taller man so that he would not be subjected to the deadly scrutiny. He knew Wardyke would not miss the hostility in his own eyes if he were to look into them. The others were trying to avoid his eyes as well, but somehow the beam of his attention forced their eyes up to meet his no matter how hard they tried to avoid it. If he saw the slightest flicker of anything but fear and awe in their expression, he concentrated longer upon them until at last they were forced to surrender their independence and cringe like the rest. Karne escaped only because he was aware in time of what was going on and kept well out of sight.

  When everyone was gathered, Wardyke lifted his left arm to point at the grey and lowering sky above Maal’s house. It must have been a signal because almost immediately a low and sombre drumming started, and a column of smoke rose from the direction of the old priest’s house. The villagers gasped, but had no time to talk to their neighbours about what was happening. The drumming was growing louder and as all heads turned from the smoke to the direction of the sound, six men, Wardyke’s men, were seen approaching carrying a bier of branches on which the body of their old priest was lying.