The mother stared at her for a moment as though she was not quite sure how she was going to take the news, and then her face broke up into smiles.
At that moment Karne came in.
‘You never told me Fern was with child!’ his mother cried joyfully.
He looked at Fern standing forlornly in the middle of the room, clutching her dress, Kyra beside her with her face all worried.
His hesitation was barely noticeable and then he was across the room in two strides, his arm around his love, his lips warmly brushing the top of her hair.
‘Yes,’ he said to his mother, ‘we were keeping it a surprise.’
Kyra saw Fern’s face lift to his and the relief in it was beautiful to see.
He laughed and looked at her all over.
‘You will be a bit cold getting married like that!’ he teased.
‘Oh, get away with you,’ his mother chided. ‘Go on – get out! We have things to do even if you have not!’
She gave him a slap as though he were a small boy again, and he laughingly left, giving a quick backward glance of amusement and love at his bride.
Kyra suddenly hugged Fern. They were both aware that in that moment when Karne had not denied the child was his, the whole course of their life together had been made that much easier.
Unaware of the drama that had just been played out under her very nose, Karne’s mother continued her fussing and bustling, dressing the girl in the new dress, chattering with joy about the prospect of the new baby, chivvying Kyra to make alterations on the dress before the ceremony, while she rushed off to supervise the food.
A deputation of little girls from the village arrived with an exquisite crown of woven grasses, jewelled with green, orange and yellow berries, for Fern to wear. One of them gave it to her shyly. It was obvious she was expected by the others to make a speech, but the words would not come. Fern stooped and kissed her and the child ran away happily with her friends.
Then Kyra gave Fern her present, a necklace of sea shells so long that it could be wound several times around her neck and still hang low across her breast. Kyra had gathered the shells from time to time since she had been a very small child. Her collection of sea shells was very precious to her and she had kept it all these years in a secret place. Now the whole collection was in the necklace, apart from the few she broke in threading them, and she gave the gift with great love to her new sister.
Fern gasped and gazed with wonder at the delicate and exquisite shapes and colours of the shells.
‘Oh Kyra,’ she whispered and could say no more.
* * * *
At last it was time for the festivities to begin. Fern was led through the village by a gay band of dancers and flute players to Karne who was waiting impatiently under the arch.
She caused a gasp of admiration as she appeared and Karne himself was stunned by her appearance.
Always a beautiful girl, now in the long flowing softness of the green dress, her hair red-gold and shining in the sun, the little crown proudly worn upon her head, she looked like some princess of the nature spirit world. He wondered if he dared take her in his arms as he saw her walking so gracefully among the admiring crowd, but when she reached him her eyes were shining so much with love for him he did not hesitate. A cheer of pleasure went up from all his friends and neighbours as he welcomed her into his embrace.
Kyra then moved forward and spoke simply and with dignity the words of blessing she had heard Maal use at weddings in the past.
After that the feasting and the merriment began. Kyra could not remember when she had known such a day of happiness.
The villagers were celebrating victory and release from the dark spell of Wardyke as much as the joyful union of two of their favourite people. Music was played the whole day long. Dancing and kissing and eating seemed endless. The children were never still.
At the high point of the afternoon grain was thrown into the air in great sweeping arcs, and all the birds from miles around came swooping down to enjoy it. The air was filled with the sounds of their flight, their cries of joy were added to the music and singing.
Seven times the grain was thrown. Seven times the wheeling, swooping flight of birds descended. On the seventh and final time a black bird dropped its feather as a gift at Fern’s feet and Karne picked it up for her. As the sunlight caught it, every colour in the rainbow flashed from its jet surface. He kissed it before he placed it in her hair.
Kyra wandered off by herself during the afternoon and sat beside the deserted ring of ancient stones. She could hear the noise of the party clearly enough, but it was not obtrusive. The circle itself was absolutely silent.
She thought back along the summer and all that had happened to her and could not believe that she was the same person who had lain with Karne that day so long ago to spy upon the old man, Maal.
She fingered the white crystal that hung about her neck and thought about Maal, his kindness, his wisdom, his death. She wondered where he was now and when she would see him again. She had kept her promise to him and had no doubt that he would keep his to her even if it meant only in another life.
She thought about the Lords of the Sun and her heart longed to see the young priest from the desert Temple once again. She was tempted to enter the circle and attempt to call him to her.
One part of her mind gave her arguments for trying it; the other told her the Sacred Circle was not to be used for personal matters.
She buried her face in her hands and tried to stop the conflict, but the discipline of mind she had managed to achieve with such effort lately seemed now of no avail. The tempter won and with beating heart she slipped into the circle. Trembling with anxiety she made the rounds from stone to stone, trying to calm herself, but with every step becoming more agitated.
So determined was she to see if she could do it, she ignored all the warning signs within herself, and put herself against the leaning stone in the position she had learnt.
Nothing happened.
She remained exactly as she was.
Heart beating, conscious of herself.
There was no separation. No vision. No travelling.
Disappointed, she opened her eyes and stood up.
The circle felt dead in a way she had never experienced before.
She left, ashamed.
* * * *
That night when Karne and Fern were happily in their new home and all the village was sleeping peacefully, worn out by the day’s activities, Kyra lay awake. She knew she had done wrong to go into the circle for no good reason but her own selfish desires. She wondered if she would be punished by her powers being taken from her. It was certain there was nothing in her feelings or in the atmosphere of the circle that afternoon to suggest that she had any powers at all.
She thought about the prophecy that she would travel south to the Temple of the Sun and be trained as a priest. She and Karne had talked about it a great deal and planned the journey between them. He and Fern were to go with her, first in the boat Ji and Okan had helped build on the great sea and then by river as far as they could, travelling overland when they had to, avoiding the forests as much as possible, resting at villages. The new priest who was travelling this route at this very time would give them advice.
Fern’s baby would be born on the journey and live its first years within the influence of the Temple of the Sun.
Karne would have his greatest ambition satisfied. She knew that for as long as she could remember Karne had longed to see this famous Temple. He had even built the boat they were to use for the first stage of the journey for this very purpose.
She thought about that day so long ago when she had said to him, ‘The journey to the Temple of the Sun requires more than a boat . . . it is a journey on many levels . . .’
She knew now the journey had started on that day.
But had she forfeited all this now?
Tears came to her eyes and she felt very much alone and miserable. She had tried so hard to be worthy o
f Maal’s trust and now she had let him down. It must have been because she saw Karne and Fern so much in love that she began dreaming of the only man she had ever seen who roused her in the way Karne seemed to rouse Fern.
‘It is ridiculous!’ she told herself crossly. ‘If I cannot manage self-control, how can I expect it of other people? I would be no good as a priest anyway!’
She sobbed herself to sleep like a child, and as the moon rode above the village, strangely vivid dreams began to come to her.
She saw herself in the great circle of the south, one among many initiates, bowing to the high priest with the kind face and the jade stone about his neck. He touched her head and pressed his thumb hard upon her forehead.
‘You who now have my mark upon you will follow me and learn what I have to teach,’ he said in a flat ritualistic voice.
She saw him pass down the line of initiates pausing only at one or two, making the same sign to them and speaking the same words.
Her heart lifted. She had been chosen.
When he had passed out of sight the line of initiates broke up and went towards different parts of the great circle, where they gathered in groups around the particular priest-teacher who had been assigned to them.
As she passed one group she found her eyes drawn to it. She could not see the priest in charge, as he was hidden by his students, but the students were different from the others she had noticed. With a sudden jerk her heart registered that the clothing of these students was similar to that she had seen in the wall pictures in the desert Temple of red sandstone, and as she discovered this the group moved and the priest who was in charge of them stood clearly in her sight.
It was the young and handsome Lord of the Sun.
As she recognized him, he saw her.
Their eyes met.
But in that instant, before she could be sure what expression was in his eyes, she jerked awake and lay in her own house in the far cold north, wrapped in sleeping rugs and trembling from head to foot.
For the rest of the night she tossed and turned, unable to be sure whether it had been a vision or an ordinary dream.
The dawn found her pale and dark eyed. At first light she crept out, too restless to spend another moment trying to sleep. At the door she paused and then returned to her sleeping place to fetch Maal’s stone. She had grown used to wearing it at all times, and particularly when she was unhappy and uncertain of herself.
As she came out into the cold light of the early morning, she glanced down at it before she put it round her neck.
And then she paused and stared.
The stone that had been white as frost before now appeared to her as green as jade.
She could hear the words she had heard before:
‘You who now have my mark upon you will follow me and learn what I have to teach.’
It had not been a dream.
* * * *
Kyra’s spirit travelling took her to the ancient civilisations of Mycenae (chapter 10), China, Crete and Egypt (chapter 15). The great Temple of the Sun is known today as Avebury in southern England.
All locations are both actual and mythic, existing at once on the material plane and in the spirit realms. The adventures occur in actual Time and in the Timeless zone of inner transformation.
All the protagonists exist today.
About Moyra Caldecott
Moyra Caldecott was born in Pretoria, South Africa in 1927, and moved to London in 1951. She married Oliver Caldecott and raised three children. She has degrees in English and Philosophy and an M.A. in English Literature.
Moyra Caldecott has earned a reputation as a novelist who writes as vividly about the adventures and experiences to be encountered in the inner realms of the human consciousness as she does about those in the outer physical world. To Moyra, reality is multidimensional.
Books by Moyra Caldecott
Titles marked with an asterisk are either available or forthcoming from Mushroom eBooks. Please visit www.mushroom-ebooks.com for more information.
FICTION
Guardians of the Tall Stones:
The Tall Stones*
The Temple of the Sun*
Shadow on the Stones*
The Silver Vortex*
Weapons of the Wolfhound*
The Eye of Callanish*
The Lily and the Bull*
The Tower and the Emerald*
Etheldreda*
Child of the Dark Star*
Hatshepsut: Daughter of Amun*
Akhenaten: Son of the Sun*
Tutankhamun and the Daughter of Ra*
The Ghost of Akhenaten*
The Winged Man*
The Waters of Sul*
The Green Lady and the King of Shadows*
NON-FICTION/MYTHS AND LEGENDS
Crystal Legends*
Three Celtic Tales*
Women in Celtic Myth
Myths of the Sacred Tree
Mythical Journeys: Legendary Quests
CHILDREN’S STORIES
Adventures by Leaflight
The Tall Stones Page 24