by D. N. Carter
“How do you mean?”
“Paul…if we all live in peace and harmony, the world grows, thrives, remains in balance and can deal with anything that comes our way from out there in the Lord’s eternal expanse of the cosmos. Mother Earth herself blooms and protects us all just like a mother does her own born children. But if we, all of us, become twisted, full of spite, greed, hate and violence, then Mother Earth loses her peace and harmony…she suffers, she begins to fail and she cannot then protect and defend us from what comes every so many thousands of years for she becomes weakened. Do not ask me to explain how, but it is true.”
Paul thought for a moment upon Theodoric’s comments.
“I have heard this same theory within the Grail romances, but when the king is wounded or ill, like when King Arthur is sick, the countryside becomes sick with him,” Paul said quietly.
“Exactly…but the Grail romances are just a new telling of ancient truths and codes placed upon real characters, as I explained earlier about the High Kings of Ireland.”
“But why would my father be given the sword? Why our family…tree?”
“It was given to your mother actually…but those type of facts, present patriarchal society that we currently live in is not able to neither fully comprehend nor grasp the sacred feminine principles so essential for balance and harmony…but that will one day change…it has to.”
“So why did that all lead to you getting the tattoo done? You still seem so reluctant to explain why.”
“Listen, Paul…I am not boasting when I say that I was a far better soldier of Christ than your father…but I was able to beat both him and Firgany together. Whilst we stayed in the valley of the twin lakes, it was truly a beautiful and magical place. The trees, the grass, they all seemed so much greener, more alive somehow. The whole place wrapped you up in its own presence. And for days we just waited. Watched strange lights dance in the clear skies at night and talked about all manner of things. Then we were approached one day by a dark haired old lady. She looked old and frail. We had seen her many times just sitting on a barrel watching the world go by. But on this day, she came straight up to us, announced that she was a watcher, watches everything. Of course we thought she was a bit mad, but your mother did not. The old woman then came right out with it and simply said if we wanted the sword Caliburn, the sword of Orion, then we would have to follow her and do as she asked.”
“Asked…not told or demanded?” Paul asked quizzically.
“Yes…asked. Never once told us. So we followed her across the stream that led down from the top lake to the bottom lake. We were led to what we learnt was a ‘sweat hut’.”
“Sweat hut! Sounds disgusting.”
“Yes…it was made in the form of a large beehive shape. It still stands to this day. You enter it and they heat it from beneath. As you sweat, it cleanses and purifies your body but also has a strange effect upon your mind and conscious being.”
“How so?”
“For a start, you begin to see things within your mind, vivid images and realisations and thoughts you had never experienced before. Like a form of instant enlightenment almost…that is when we all saw, or shared a vision, who knows, but an image of two women arched backwards opposite each other, their arms stretching into branches of a tree, with more branches spreading out, and strong roots set within Mother Earth herself. But as we all watched the image grow, it shone out like a pair of glowing wings. It was beautiful and it glowed even more as golden leaves began to bud upon it. But then we all heard the deepest voice ever that told us that unless we protect this mother tree, her branches and offshoots, then when Mother Earth herself needed shade and protection beneath it from a dark sun, then we would all perish…forever. No rebirth like the symbolic Phoenix rising from the ashes, which is actually a symbolic representation of the rebirth of mankind after each and every cataclysm that has happened as I said earlier, then this time, there would be no rebirth, no fifth age of man, the spiritual age that would finally allow us to escape the mortal flesh bonds of this world and travel out into other realms of existence as promised to us by our most ancient forefathers,” Theodoric explained without stopping.
“Wow. I can see there are a multitude of layers to the symbolism there,” Paul remarked, impressed.
“That is but the smallest tip of a very large sword, Paul. For whilst we were all in the beehive sweat hut, we saw and experienced many things. We spoke often afterwards asking ourselves how much of it was real or imagined, but the lights we saw, the woman in the lake…and the sword, they all confirmed to us it was all real.”
“So the tattoo is a representation of what you all saw…so that you would never forget it.”
“Huh, no not quite. It was bloody painful to have done. Besides, as the woman explained, she showed us an image of the same tree wither and die. Now you have been taught much about the symbolism of trees, especially sacred oaks et cetera, and the connection with Druids. Well, the old woman explained that death is but a small transition and that when we die, we leave our physical bodies, just like when we take off an old garment, and sometimes we come back and put on another garment, to learn new lessons. Lessons on life and love. But she also said that when we have learnt those lessons, we can go onwards and upwards, to other realms of a higher existence, in the Bible they are referred to as other mansions that the Lord has…but for us she meant that some of us, when we die, we would not need to return to put on another garment and learn new lessons as we had learnt enough to evolve to the next level…just as a great many of our ancestors did many thousands of years before us. They left but a few who would act as watchers and helpers to guide Mother Earth’s newer souls,” Theodoric explained then went quiet and sadness registered across his face. Paul leaned forwards and touched his forearm to check he was okay. “Sorry. Just painful memories I cannot ever rid myself of. The worst being that both your father and I found out that your mother…that she would die young…and she would not be returning to this realm of existence for she was already above it but had volunteered to come back to help all of us. She did not know this herself, well, not at the time, as a sort of spiritual and emotional veil is placed over them for their own safety and sanity whilst upon this world.”
“What…like an angel incarnate?” Paul asked, utterly perplexed.
“Yes…and why should that not be so?”
“I…I do not have an answer for that,” Paul replied then looked at Theodoric in alarm as he thought of Alisha. “Ali…does she have that same countenance as my mother for look what she can do and how people react to her?”
“She has…there is no way of hiding that fact…but so do you, Paul… you just haven’t recognised it in yourself yet,” Theodoric replied, his voice lowered.
“Cannot be so, for I have already stained my soul with the death of one man already.”
“You did not kill with evil intent or malice. ’Tis different. Even the angels of old had cause at times to kill people. Need I spell out Sodom and Gomorrah?”
“Dear God, not Ali…I cannot live without her,” Paul sighed heavily.
“Your father said the same when he lost your mother.”
“Thanks…that makes me feel a whole lot better.”
“But, Paul, Alisha is not your mother and you are not your father. Now let me finish what I must say before tiredness wins this night. Listen to me when I tell you this…your parents wanted a child. The old woman gave us a choice, well it wasn’t really a choice I suppose. She would call upon the people of the skies and lakes to let your mother fall with child, so long as I would swear my life to learning the secrets and teachings of the old ways of the High Kings, of the Druids, and also take one of their own women until she too fell with child.”
“What…and you agreed to that?”
“Well, yes. I knew how desperate your mother was to fall with child. I had seen some of the women in the valley and I had yet to see any that were not pleasing upon the eye.”
“But what
about Sister Lucy?”
“She was still married at the time…besides a man has needs…Also we were told that if we did this, your mother would fall with child, her line would continue, but likewise the old woman’s family tree also needed to be seeded and continued, and in return not only would your mother be with child, but she would also be entrusted, on loan…the sword. And so it was that I entered the beehive sweat hut alone, whilst your mother and father were taken to the lower lake. A truly magical place surrounded by trees full of different coloured leaves and mountains all around that reflected off the flat water’s surface. Well, as I was about to enter the sweat hut, we all looked up at the night sky as a bright ball of light again appeared, but this time it emerged from the middle of a large bright spiral of light that stretched across the sky. As the spiral vanished, the ball of light descended giving off all the colours of the rainbow and we watched it as it sank into the lake. I went inside the sweat hut and your parents were led down to the lower lake. As they waited upon the northeastern shore, a woman appeared to walk out of the water. She was tall, had a face that was a dark blue but appeared black. Your father held your mother more tightly than she him I think, he was so nervous. The woman stopped just in front of them. She then pulled at her face, or that is how they remember it, and it was as if she had pulled away a black veil for suddenly her real face was revealed. She was blue eyed and had jet black hair. She smiled and simply handed the sword to your mother.”
“My Lord…then what happened?”
“We…we do not know.”
“What do you mean you do not know?”
“As I say…we did not know. The next thing any of us can remember is when your parents awoke back in the bed they were using, both undressed and feeling very rested. Me…I recall entering the sweat hut…then it all becomes a bit hazy after that. I can vaguely remember a beautiful woman entering behind me. She was naked. I remember thinking, actually panicking, that I had been drugged, that they had sent your mother in as your father could not sire children so they were going to use me to make her pregnant.”
“What! Are you saying you slept with my mother…and that you are Stewart’s father…no!”
“No, Paul…absolutely not. The woman was different. For a start I do remember she was tall, a lot taller than your mother. And I was mightily upset that I could not fully recall perhaps the best night of my life.”
“So what happened next?”
“Well, just as the woman said all along, your mother indeed fell pregnant that very night, with Stewart. I never saw who the woman was who came to me, but the very next day, the old woman said our pact was complete and I would be going to a place right at the very western edge of our known world, upon an island, Arran Island, you remember all that I have said about Ari…the place was called Dun Aengus; it has an enormous stone fort with a mystery that no one knows who built it or when. It faces the wild sea, and three stone rings meet above 300 foot sheer cliffs. It seems to keep a watchful eye I was told as I was packed off there the very next morning. Your parents immediately returning home complete with a sword and baby on the way. Me…I got to freeze daily for over a year, taught daily without respite and just when it was time to leave the people who had taught me much, it is fair to say, they sent me on my way with this permanent reminder forever etched upon my back.
“And Sister Lucy knows nothing of this?” Paul enquired.
Theodoric shook his head no and stood up slowly and stretched his arms out as he yawned.
“If I should remember, for another night I feel, I shall tell you about the Sacred Hallows of the Hyperborean Tuatha De Danann. These hallows are found symbolically in the Arthurian cycle of myths. Basically though, there are four clear elements to the Arthurian cycle. One is the sword Excalibur, the stone from which Arthur pulled it, the quest for the Grail which is represented by a chalice which is also linked with the horn, the Calc Rune, and Parsifal’s spear, which is closely associated with the Grail. The sword Excalibur is of course the sword of the God Nuada Airgetlam, silver hand or arm, the first king of the Tuatha. The sword’s name, as all swords of any importance in Celtic and Germanic mythology had names, was Claiomh Solais – The Sword of Light. This sword was inherited by Arthur as a symbol of his divine kingship. Arthur or Ar-Thor, there is that Ar again, and of course Thor was the God of Norse legend in a mythological rather than an historical context. The Tyr Rune symbolises both the sword and spear, which are both symbols of divine kingship amongst the Celto-Germanic peoples. The stone from which Arthur pulled the sword is the Lia Fail of the Tuatha, the Stone of Destiny, used for the crowning of monarchs in Tara. This hallow is represented by the Stan Rune. The Cauldron of the Dagda is the origin in part of the concept of the Grail as a cup or chalice. Of course the Grail is also represented as a green stone, according to several accounts presently being compiled. The Grail is symbolised by the Calc Rune, the horn being a precursor to the cup or chalice, being eventually outlawed by the Church for its ‘heathen’ associations. The Spear of Lugh, which is also Gungnir, the Spear of Woden, is inherited by the Aryan Kristos Parsifal and is represented by the Gar Rune, the Gift of Ing, the Spear of Divine Inheritance! The fact that there is a continuing thread that links the Celtic, Arthurian and Germanic traditions together is just more evidence of the common Aryan origin of the Grail mythos. The exoteric search for the Grail and its accompanying hallows, the spear, stone and sword, is the external form of the inner quest to recover the lost knowledge and wisdom of the ancients, that Solar and Hyperborean wisdom, the inheritance of the Arya. For that time when there was no war…But I feel I am too tired to explain tonight.” He paused for a moment. “My friend, I think I have spoken enough for one night. Away to bed we must.”[26]
Both sat in silence for several minutes. Paul knew he would hear nothing more from Theodoric that night. He looked unusually exhausted. Theodoric stood up slowly and made his way across the hall towards the main door.
“Yes…yes indeed,” Paul replied and stood up, flicked out the flame on the two almost burnt out candles, picked up his sword and looked at it before following after Theodoric, the large wooden doors echoing out loudly as he pulled them closed behind them.
The hall fell silent, just a flutter from one of the heavy crimson curtains as it blew slightly from the sea breeze outside and the last crackles of a single flaming torch set upon the end wall near the table, smoke still rising from the two candles Paul had just extinguished. Suddenly the small curtain that shielded a private priest’s confessional box in the far corner of the hall was pushed back. Silently Brother Matthew stepped out and onto the stone floor. He took in a deep breath, stretched his legs, and then stood still, his face half lit by moonlight streaming in through the end windows. He rubbed his beard briefly, then smiled…very broadly. He had listened in and heard everything.
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