by JM Bannon
She scanned the front rows of the assembled boys and men, garbed for war on the orders of just one of the men in that hut, but she could see they would rather be at home working their fields than stood here in the dawn light.
Her people were a scant few miles away from this place. If they learnt of this host, they would declare war just on the principle of Mercian feet on their soil. Battle would be further justified by the grudges held by her father and uncles that would reawaken and the fight would be bloody.
She stepped forward in front of the half circle of leaders and spoke proudly.
“I am Garwen verch Madoc of the Ordovices. I stand here accused of being a witch by this man!”
She turned and pointed at the monk who had just stepped from the hut.
“I have told him and your King that I accept your God and have asked your holy man to baptize me to prove I am no witch.” Her voice grew stronger in her anger.
“He does not believe me! He says I am a devil, that baptism will not work!” her voice was a shout now aimed at the men beyond the circle of Ealdormen.
“He does not believe in his own religion and teachings! Are there any here who will bless me and make me of your faith?” She stood tall before them in the dawn light, the trim of her cloak catching the light.
An Ealdorman in chain-mail and leather answered, "Is this true my King?” he addressed Aethelred.
“I am no longer your king, Hamfest. But it is true.”
“Then if the girl wants to accept Christ who are we to stop her?" asked Hamfest bewildered.
“Ealdormen, did you bring your priests with you to battle!” called Aethelred.
“Aye I did my Lord,” replied Hamfest and others also responded.
“All of you, to whom I was once your liege lord, hear me! There stands your new king my nephew, to who you now own fealty. I was once your king and led you to many a victory but now this I do ask of you all.”
“Do not take this course, there is no need for us to fight today, we have peace, the first for many years. I have grown weary of fighting. We have grown into old men fighting.” He pointed at the ring of councilors.
“We are here today because that man!” He turned and pointed at Ostric.
“That man wants strife! No one else! There is no witchcraft here! If there is then all of your wives are guilty too!” there was a rumble of laughter from the men in front of him.
“I ask that you continue to support my nephew and help him be a good and just ruler. Those of you who brought your clergymen to this place, I ask them in the name of our Lord Christ to let them come forward and baptise this woman into our faith,” pleaded Aethelred.
“So, she can marry you and sire an heir to contend with King Coenrad,” voiced Ostric from the edge of the circle.
The Ealdorman paused at this statement.
“Hold thy tongue monk, lest I cut it from your lying mouth!” Aethelred snarled at Ostric.
“If it means peace between our people I will become one of your brides of Christ!” cried Garwen.
Rose could see the stunned look on Aethelred as he absorbed Garwen’s words. “and I will retire to the monastery at Bardney after a pilgrimage to Rome,” said Aethelred.
Several priests pushed through the throng of men to kneel before the Kings
Coenrad stepped forward.
“Before all of this company, the woman Garwen will be baptised. If it be true, as the monk claims, that she is a witch and has beguiled my uncle by foul magics then the holy water will burn and shrivel her. If he lies, then she will be unharmed and will enter the church of Christ as our sister in God!”
He motioned for the men to stand.
“Come forward girl” Coenred commanded.
Garwen went to her knees before the priests.
They stood in a half circle around her, the most senior of them recited the sacrament in Latin and she closed her eyes and held hers hands up as in prayer. Rose felt the warm hands of the priest on her head then the icy cold-water splash upon her head. As the priest made the sign of the cross on her forehead she opened her eyes.
She was no longer in the body of Garwen but stood in a place of grey flat light, where even the surface on which she stood was grey and featureless. She realised with a start that there was a woman next to her and that the woman was Garwen.
Garwen looked at her and nodded in greeting, “Sister”
Rose knew that she did not refer to her being a nun but to a coterie of women that belonged to more than one faith or religion, more than one age, a sisterhood that spanned time and space in a way that she did not yet fully understand.
She returned the nod and title, “Sister”.
She watched as a figure appeared out of the grey and walked towards them. The two women watched as the figure approached until the form of Ostric was revealed.
“Well, now this is surprising! I was expecting just you,” he said to Garwen.
“Now who might you be?” he turned to Rose.
Rose made no response and the monk shrugged. “It is of no importance, you will tell me eventually,” he smiled.
“What bargain have you made with the Beast?” Garwen demanded.
Ostric’s smile widened and when he next spoke his voice was far deeper than the monks.
“There was no bargain! I consumed his soul long ago,” the body of the monk responded.
“This one thought to defeat me and stop my influence in this realm. He thought to achieve power in the church and amongst men. Instead he opened a doorway for me, now I can through him and others touch the world of men directly and prepare the path for my corporeal entry to your realm and its rule. In the end he gave himself willingly for my service. The fool came to think that I was the Holy Spirit. He learnt otherwise when his soul fed my hunger!”
Rose spoke for the first time. “You tricked him into allowing you entry to our world Marbas?”
Ostric laughed. “Ah no, young stranger. My freedom comes from her lover’s ambition. Aethelred’s desire to expand Mercia and to have your people give up the old ways of their religion weakened my bonds. With that that softening of my chains when this fool thought he would better me he soon learnt the error of his ways. Now his form allows me to walk freely amongst men, sowing discord.”
The monk’s face and skull began to crack and split. Before their stunned gaze, the outward shell of the monk fell apart and, in its place, stood a man shaped figure with the head of a lion. The creature stood a full rod tall; more than twice the height of even the tallest of men.
His skin was the color of pewter and had a leathery sheen that as he moved reflected light in small iridescent sparkles like the scales of a monstrous snake.
The creature peered down at the two women who had moved closer together for support.
“Tell me little stranger, how did you see beyond the form of the man? How know you my name?”
Rose stared at the creature her lips firmly pressed together he could not know she was from the future or that she knew of his long captivity.
“No answer? How disappointing, still it is of no matter, you will not have that knowledge for long in any case.”
He turned his attention to Garwen, bending down from the waist to peer into her eyes. She stood firm before him and spoke proudly.
“I am of this land demon, a Sister of the Earth Mother, of the Morrighan whose trinity of sisters guide me.”
“Why you would care what happens to these Christians? They are your enemy, like the Romans before them. They come here to take your lands and kill your kin!” The creature seemed perplexed as it paced around them.
In the endless nothingness of grey that surrounded them, floor, sky, horizon was all a monotonous grey blank. Only the Demon’s burning footprints marred the nothingness, as if his footfall was as hot as the earth’s core. He stepped closer to them.
“I have a bargain for you Garwen. Help me sow conflict between Aethelred and the new king! Help me cause the Mercian throne to fal
l. You will have a long life with your man. Or I will have your life on our return. Decide now, before we return to your reality.”
“I have made my covenant, I have given myself to the Christian God, but my oaths to the three sisters of the Morrighan still remain true, they are not jealous of the Christian God. With them in my heart I have no need for your lies, or false promises, and tricks. I will be the portal that will reveal your true visage to the Mercians and Celts,”
Garwen stood firm and proud in front of Marbas.
A shadow brushed across them, Rose looked up and there circling above them in the gloom, was the largest raven she had ever seen. As it flew over them its circling blocked out the sun, that only a moment before had not been there.
Rose looked around, the grey limbo had gone. They were back, back in their own realm. She was back within Garwen. The lion headed creature was once more encased in the shape of the monk. It stood still, looking around, its prideful pacing had ceased, replaced by stillness and a hunched posture as if waiting for a blow to fall.
The space Rose, Garwen and the creature that had loomed had occupied, was no longer a grey nothingness, but the area in front of the hut. As she watched the sun disappeared, replaced by a roiling fog which slowly closed in on them.
At the edge of the fog, from the East and the West the silhouette of a wolf and a horse walked slowly forward, closing in on the monk and Garewn/Rose while from above the raven swooped down.
The fog thickened leaving a small clearing and the shadows of the animals flickered and flowed away; in their place were the forms of three women. Rose could not make out their features; veils shielded their faces from view even as they reached the edge of the fog bank.
From behind Rose a bright intense light broke through the fog, brighter than the midday sun and shone on Ostric causing him to cower, shielding his eyes from the light. She herself was bathed in the white brilliance and took joy in its strange, vaporous quality.
She struggled to turn around but found she was immobile, fixed in place, as the light changed its form to the flowing ethereal fabric she had seen in her vision. Rose was just a spectator as this dreamlike event played out.
A chill passed through her, as a being of light walked past her transfixed body towards Marbas. From the corner of her eye she watched as a shape of utter beauty, twice the size of a man with an aura that moved and flowed like smoke move forward. Rose knew this being; it was Ariel, Ariel the archangel, from her vision, full of strength and love. The angel was substantial, then intangible but awe-inspiring all at once.
Rose tried to understand where the angel started and stopped. She saw the muscular frame, dressed in brilliant silver plate armour, yet an energy or smoke emanated from him that billowed about him and took the form of floating silk. Wings protruded above the angel’s back reaching into the grey fog that surrounded the beast within the body of the monk.
The angel spoke, its voice melodious yet ear splittingly loud. Once again she could not understand the words of its strange language. The form of Ostric which she knew contained the demon Marbas replied in the same tongue. While the conversation was indecipherable; the tone and body language made it clear to Rose a confrontation was imminent.
The demon's human casing dissolved and Marbas was again revealed in his true form. Of equal size to the angel they confronted one another almost touching. Marbas snarled and suddenly pounced on Ariel. The archangel and fallen angel grappled one another. Marbas’s fangs clashed uselessly on the helm worn by the angel, whose fists pummeled the demon.
The fog swirled and out of its depths the three shadowy forms of the women appeared shrieking their hatred of the demon. Their shapes grew until they were of equal size to the battling figures. They joined in the battle swinging rods of fire that rained down blows on the demon’s head and shoulders.
Their attack gave the demon pause and it fell back a step giving Ariel a chance to draw his sword which flamed with a cold blue light.
Ariel pointed his sword at the ground and voiced a command. The ground groaned and heaved then split open revealing its fiery depths. All the combatants seemed to be standing in the air above the fissure as Ariel joined the sisters in hitting Marbas.
The demon cringed and wailed as the angel’s sword fell on his head and shoulders, the blue flame flickering to red as it struck.
With each blow of the sword and the women’s rods, the demon seemed to shrink to fall in on himself. With a wail the demon began to sink into the ground dropping into the gaping fissure. As he descended so gouts of the crimson energies Rose had seen when she used her scrying mirror arose from the tortured ground.
As Marbas was pushed into the fissure his cries grew louder and more fearful his attempts to flee more obvious, but the four creatures of light encircled him, and their weapons drove him ever downwards. As he dropped below the rim of the fissure, the edges began to close inwards. His shrieks became muffled as he was entombed in the rock and soil of the field.
The three women’s forms coalesced into a single human sized woman stood on the opposite side of the fissure from the angel. The woman spoke.
“Come human, seal the beast away and pickup thy burden of the ages.”
Garwen stepped forward and the woman handed her a carved stone covered in blue.
“Do you take this burden willingly?” Garwen spoke firmly. “I so confirm”
“Then take this human, set it down on this space and the demon will be sealed in the earth of this realm as long as you and your heirs keep it bound with these glyphs.”
Garwen took the petroglyph and placed it on the glowing red spot where the Morrighan and Ariel had driven Marbas below ground.
“It is done, only the shell remains to be disposed of.” The woman said to Ariel.
The angel nodded then turned and walked into the light disappearing from view.
The fog swirled once more and then was gone. In its place were the gathered forces of Mercia and the scene she had left. It seemed a lifetime ago, yet here no time seemed to have passed. Each person still stood in the same spot as before save one. Now before her stood Ostric his form outlined in shimmering, blue green flame. He was close to her yet she felt no heat or pain caused by the flames which covered him.
His mouth was open in a silent scream and his eyes were rolled back in his head. She took a step backwards then another and another until she felt her body hit that of another. Hands gripped her arms and she felt fear, then a well-loved voice whispered in her ear.
“Stand steady, my love, stand steady and show no fear or joy at this sight.”
She nodded slightly and face impassive watched with the gathered nobles and men of Mercia as the body of Ostric was consumed by the flames.
As the cleric’s body was reduced to bones and ashes by the arcane fire, the onlookers backed away, many of them making the sign of the cross. Rose could see the shock, fear and awe on the faces of the other priests who had taken part in her baptism.
The flames spluttered and died. Aethelred renewed his grip on Garwen, pulling her in close.
“Were you burned, my love?” asked Aethelred.
“Nay lord of my heart the flames did not touch me. These are the flames of the earth Mother from which I am protected.”
“Why did the monk burn then?”
Garwen leaned back against him and whispered, fearing others hearing,
“The monk was possessed by a fell demon called Marbas. He intention was to cause strife between you and your nephew and so destroy the kingdom and my people in one go. With my people destroyed, he would be able to walk freely amongst us in any guise as the magic they weave to hold him would weaken and fail.”
Aethelred continued to hold her,
“For now, say nothing! Else they will think you to be a witch, my love. Please say nothing; I will give them an answer that will satisfy them and protect you.”
Aethelred let go and walked past her to the collapsed pile of bones and ashes that was once a man. He
stirred the ashes with his foot then bent and picked up the skull of the dead monk. He held it up high for the crowd to see.
“Behold, here are the remains of Ostric. He has been taken to heaven by the Holy Angel, after defeating Marbas an officer of Lucifer, himself.”
“Did you not see how the flames consumed his flesh, yet there is not a blade of grass burnt where his bones lie. Surely this is a miracle, for just as the woman Garwen has been shriven of any evil by her baptism, so did the monk fight the demon afflicting her. The demon is defeated, and the monk has been taken by God into his holy embrace!”
The other monks and holy men dropped to their knees and prayed, many of the gathered army followed suit.
“Your king commands your loyalty and God smiles on us. There is no need for further death this day.”
He turned to Coenred. “Tell them nephew, tell them to return home and let the peace stand.”
Coenred stepped forward and addressed the army in a ringing tone.
“We have been saved this day from evil. My mind and that of my uncle are clear on this matter. Return to your homes, we shall not fight this day.”
The men cheered and began to stand slapping each other on the back, relieved that death would not visit them today.
“What now Uncle?”
“I will lead a pilgrimage. I will take this holy relic to Rome for the Pope to bless. On my return I shall take Christ’s newest convert to the convent in Bardney and then I too shall enter a life of contemplation.”
“As you wish Uncle.”
Aethelred turned Garwen. “This is for the best my love, we keep the peace and save many lives.” He smiled ruefully, “Of course a pilgrimage may take many months, even years in these uncertain times!”
Garwen smiled at him. “That is true my love.”
Coenred snorted in amusement at the subterfuge.
“I have one last request nephew. I ask that you buy this piece of land from the Britons and with their permission raise a chapel here in honor of the events here today. Dedicate it to Saint John the Baptist, the first to show redemption through baptism.”
Rose came awake with a shuddering gasp. Her chest heaved. She could finally move, awakened from out of the dream by the bell for prayers. She lay there trying to gather her thoughts to recollect all the details of the dream.