“Your choice is interesting but ill-informed. Let us examine them in turn, young man. The Star-of Bethlehem is poisonous but parts of it can be used to cure pain in the arms and heart; the same is true of the deadly nightshade. The poison oak is the earthy seat of our great God and deserving of veneration. The yew, although every part of it is poisonous, gives us fine bows to hunt with. Furthermore, it is the sacred tree of the Asturians. The oleander and wisteria give us beauty and peace, although, they are as you rightly say poisonous; their scent soothes the mind. Would you destroy beauty and peace? The hemlock, though deadly poisonous, has properties that can be used to help sleeplessness and troubled minds. What is more, you have not even considered the mandrake root, the most powerful root of all. It shrieks when you pull it out of the ground, but it can cure madness and has other secret properties. Now there is something to marvel at. But we will come to that some other time. Your choice of mushrooms is the most interesting. You have used the amanita muscaria mushroom already?”
“How did you know?” said Inaki in a startled voice.
“I didn’t, I guessed that you had,” said his uncle, “from the change in you.”
“Oh!”
“We will return to your choice of the mushrooms in a moment,” continued his uncle, “having wiped out our religion, and our most effective weapons and some of our most important natural medicines, you then miss the most deadly of all the plants.”
He reached down to the table and picked up a bunch of, what looked like, wild cherries.
“The seed of this plant crushed, diluted and reduced to a powder produces a poison that the Romans first discovered. A speck of it will kill the largest animal or man. It is the most deadly poison that I know of. It must be treated with great care.”
Inaki looked at the floor, humbled and downcast.
“I see that I have still a great deal to learn,” he said in low voice.
“That you have, my boy, but let us go back to your choice of mushrooms. When and why did you use them?”
Inaki explained his troubled dreams and gave an account of his experience by the pool.
“Well,” said his uncle, “it is only a matter of luck that you did not lose your mind completely or your life.”
“How’s that?”
“These mushrooms are the greatest and most dangerous of the gifts that we have from the Gods. We use them to communicate with the Gods, to find our enemies and to gain insight. They can be used to interpret dreams, but this is when they are most dangerous, since you have the least control and the revelations can burn your mind out. They make you vulnerable to your enemies, opening your mind, so that your thoughts can be read and demons sent to plague you. They can drive you insane. You were lucky, for two reasons; the spirit of the warrior you killed wished you no harm and passed through you to his resting place. The Sisters of the Moon are a far more serious matter. For some reason they wish you harm. The small amount of the mushroom you took did not give them enough time to penetrate your mind.”
“What do you know about the Sisters of the Moon?” asked Inaki in deep shock.
“Only that their past is shrouded in mist and mystery. Legend has it that they come from a lost time. We have been told that their sect came with the Romans, holding high office in their religion. They were powerful. Leaders and generals would come to them to listen to their prophecies. They say that they could provide another service, the annihilation of enemies or rivals. Then the plague came. It swept through the country. Famine reached such extremes that the Sisters of the Moon were seen devouring their own children. This led to such revulsion that they were banished. They fled to the mountains of Aragon in the high Pyrenees. For a long time nothing was heard of them, except rumour. Then as the wars began they started appearing again. They were seen scavenging the battlefields, of which there were many. They stripped the corpses of anything valuable, killing those that weren’t dead and eating the flesh of those freshly killed. Later, for some reason better known to them, they began caring for the wounded in battle. They made a name for themselves as healers and they began to be welcomed in villages. However, strange deaths followed soon after they had departed.”
His uncle fell silent, deep in thought.
“How could they be implicated after they had gone?” asked Inaki.
“Now let’s us look at your second choice of mushroom,” said his uncle, apparently ignoring his question. “The shaggy mane is a delicacy which was much appreciated by the Romans. It has some interesting properties. Once eaten it is harmless, unless you consume wine within five days after you have eaten it. Then it reacts and forms a powerful poison in the body. Death quickly follows. The Romans favoured it as a way of killing unwanted guests and enemies since they died days after they had left thereby removing suspicion from the killers. Furthermore, it only grows in forests in midsummer which happens to coincide with the most important ceremony of the pagan calendar and when the Sisters of the Moon make human sacrifice.”
Both men fell silent, mulling over what had been said and deep in thought. Eventually, his uncle spoke.
“The time has come when you will have to leave and seek the Nagusi Patxi.”
“Why?” exclaimed Inaki, with hurt in his voice, for he did not what to leave or go anywhere.
“Of all the Nagusi he has the greatest skill in the hidden arts of the magic mushroom,” said his uncle. “He will instruct you in the hidden arts. The time has come for you to move on. Have you ever trapped or caught a small bird, Inaki?”
“Of course I have.”
“Well if you tie a thread to one of its legs and let it go, can you tell in which direction it will fly?”
“No, uncle.”
“Using the mushroom is the same. Without the proper training, the direction or where it will take you is out of your control. If he accepts you, make sure you pay attention,” his uncle said sternly. “What he will teach you could save your life.”
Chapter Six
The Enlightenment
Patxi lived in a village on the coast. He was one of eight brothers and the only Nagusi in the family. He lived with his wife and an only daughter, aged fourteen. It took Inaki ten days to reach the village. After finding Patxi and explaining who he was and who had sent him, Patxi asked him into his house. Inaki found it easy to talk to him, and said much more than he intended. Patxi was a great listener and made few interruptions to the tale that unfolded from the young man.
When he had finished, he asked Inaki, “You mentioned Aguirre. What do you know of Aguirre Aguirre?”
“Only what I have told you,” Inaki replied.
“Didn’t you know he came from this village?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“We have not seen him for many years, not since the accident.”
“What accident?” asked Inaki, full of curiosity.
“Has he not spoken of it?”
“No.”
“Well that doesn’t surprise me,” replied Patxi, “his whole family died.”
“How did that happen?”
“This is a fishing village. In September the boats go after the Albakera, the tuna fish, which is much prized. Aguirre had gone out in his family boat with his brothers and father. The sea at this time is very dangerous, sudden storms can come without warning. To guard against this the boats go out in force, as many as a dozen at a time. They had been fishing for two days, when a freak storm hit them. A giant wave overturned Aguirre’s boat. His dog, Roka, saved him by swimming and towing him to the nearest boat. Unfortunately, the crew could only save Aguirre, as they drew him into the boat; the next wave swept the dog away from them. It drowned, as did his father and brothers. His mother died shortly afterwards of a broken heart. Roka was the father of the two bitches you met. He took the dogs and has not been seen since. I think that the village holds too many painful memories for him. He probably blames himself for the loss of his brothers and father, but there was nothing
he could have done. It also explains his total devotion to animals. Roka gave his life to save Aguirre.”
“I never knew,” Inaki said.
“Now let us get down to the business at hand. You have the calling?”
“Yes,” Inaki said thoughtfully.
“Good. Do you believe in our Gods?”
Inaki looked at the ground. “They have not spoken to me.”
“You insolent pup! The Gods speak only to a chosen few. Why should they speak to you? Still it is good to have doubts, in time you will find your Gods,” said Patxi. “You will need a guardian. You cannot use the mushroom without a guardian. Do you trust your dog?”
“With my life.”
“Good, his spirit will be your guardian, but you must tell him.”
“How?” said a bewildered Inaki.
“You must talk to him.” Patxi laughed. “Have you never talked to your dog?”
“I give him commands and he obeys.”
“That’s not talking,” Patxi said smiling.
“Are you serious? I mean about talking to him?” Inaki looked at Storm and back to Patxi, totally confused.
“Of course.”
“What language must I learn to talk to him?”
Patxi smiled.
“Dogs don’t have a language they’re dumb. Like you, stone head!”
And so was he, Inaki thought.
“All right you’ve had your joke!” he said angrily.
“They talk in pictures, you can talk to his spirit in your dreams,” said Patxi, gently, “and I see that you are easily offended.”
The simplicity of the statement struck Inaki full in the face. It was true. In his dreams, Storm often spoke in pictures to Inaki.
“The next time you speak to him ask him to be your guardian until the true guardian makes himself known to you,” Patxi said.
“When will that happen?”
“You will know when it happens.” Patxi turned and shouted: “Olatz, bring us food! There are two hungry men here and a dog.”
After a few moments a young girl appeared, with three bowls full of the most delicious rabbit stew. She set the bowls before the men and put one on the floor. She left and returned with bread and wine. Noticing that the dog had not touched his food, she asked: “Isn’t your dog hungry?”
“Eat!” Inaki said without looking up. Storm dived into his food.
“That’s cruel,” the girl said.
Inaki looked up, for the first time, about to respond gruffly. What he beheld took his breath away. She was, without doubt, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He stared, mouth open full of food, unable to speak.
“Well?” Olatz said smiling.
“He’s trained…” Inaki could not finish the sentence.
“I can see that, but why?”
“So he can’t be poisoned.” Inaki could not compose himself, his eyes wandering helplessly over her body.
Anger appeared on the girl’s face. “You think I would poison him?”
“No!” Inaki exclaimed, spluttering his food all over the table.
“Just as well!” The girl turned sharply and left.
“Got her mother’s temper that one has,” Patxi said.
“Come on, finish your food. We have work to do.”
Inaki ate in silence, trying hard to analyse his feelings. That night Inaki could not get Olatz out of his mind.
Life in the village was a never-ending series of surprises for Inaki. First there was the food. For someone who had been brought up on a limited diet of oats, bread, cheese and mutton, the food was a revelation. He had eaten salted cod, but the variety of fish that was placed before him seemed endless, and then there was the shellfish as well: steaming wooden platters of crab, lobster, prawns, clams and mussels. Every meal was a new experience and a delight to the palate. Second, their homes were not as fortified as the villages in the mountains. If danger threatened, they just took to their boats.
Every morning he would hunt with Storm, bringing home a rabbit or two, sometimes a deer or a wild boar, seldom empty-handed. In the evenings he practiced the hidden arts with Patxi. Lessons had started slowly and deliberately. First, a process of cleansing. This took place in a conical building of stone with no windows. A fire would be lit in the middle of the round building, into which Patxi would throw herbs. Both men would take off their garments and would sit opposite each other naked until the sweat poured from them.
Then came a process of meditation and learning to make the mind blank, thereby inducing a trance like state of complete peacefulness. What was more surprising was that in this state, he could not feel pain. Patxi would poke him with glowing sticks from the fire and he would feel nothing. Some months after he had learnt this, Patxi drew two circles around them and filled the space between the circles with runes and symbols.
“This is for our protection,” he explained.
“We are about to enter a world that is both ruthless and dangerous. Don’t be frightened, I will protect you together with Storm. Whatever you do you must not panic. Are you ready for this?”
“Yes,” Inaki said in a low voice, little uncertain of what he was letting himself for.
“The first thing we have to do is find your true guardian,” Patxi said. “Sit perfectly still and on no account leave the circle.”
Patxi closed his eyes and chanted for a few moments, and then he took one of the reeds that covered the floor. He blew down it to make sure it was clear and put some powder into it. He took the reed and holding Inaki’s head back, blew the contents of the reed into his nose. Inaki’s head exploded and he lost consciousness. His mind began to drift and suddenly he was out of his body but back in the circle. A great billowing cloud rose towards the top of the building and began to take shape. Slowly the smoke formed itself into a giant Octopus, continuously changing colour, until it changed from a grey into bright red with purple spots. At that moment all the legs came together, pointing at Inaki’s chest and the animal slowly descended disappearing into his body.
Patxi slowly raised his arms and gave two very deliberate claps with his hands.
“There!” he said. “Your guardian is within you.”
Inaki sat in astonishment. Eventually, when he could speak, he was full of questions.
“Why did the Sacred Octopus choose me? What does it mean? Who is your guardian?”
“Steady,” Patxi, said gently. “I will answer your questions but give me time to reply!”
Inaki nodded.
“First, I don’t know why the Octopus God chose you, but He is extremely powerful, as you will see. My guardian is the Sacred Oak. Now sit still and watch!”
Slowly, Patxi raised his arms above his head and brought his palms together. He bowed his head and muttered a few words. For some moments nothing happened. Then slowly the building was filled with a mist in the middle of which stood a giant oak tree. Then after a while the tree disappeared.
“Can I do that?” Inaki gasped.
“No, but you now have other powers. Make your mind a blank and call on your God to protect you.”
Inaki closed his eyes and concentrated. Nothing happened.
“You’re not trying hard enough,” he heard Patxi say. “Concentrate and open your mind. Open your mouth and breathe out slowly.”
Inaki renewed his efforts and somewhere between his eyes the Octopus emerged. He breathed out slowly and deliberately.
“Open your eyes,” Patxi ordered.
A black inky substance was filling the building with darkness.
“See, you have the power of concealment, just like the Octopus God.”
Inaki abruptly shut his mouth. The substance disappeared.
“Good,” said Patxi.
“Now that we are prepared, we will teach you the art of the sacred mushrooms, but first we will rest. We have done enough for one day.”
Late that evening Inaki was sitting outside Patxi
’s house on a rough bench hewed from the trunk of a tree. He was watching the stars; Storm lay peacefully at his feet. The doorway suddenly filled with the delicious form of Olatz.
“Would you like something to drink?” Asked the girl.
“No.”
“How about a swim?”
“I can’t swim.” Inaki blushed.
“Then I shall teach you.” The girl put out her hand.
Storm growled.
“I’m not going to harm your precious master, Storm!” said the girl with a wicked smile which seemed to charm even the dog, and he wagged his tail at her words or perhaps it was the tone of her voice.
Inaki took her hand and they walked down through the meadows to the beach where they walked along to a place where the stream entered the sea.
“The sea is shallow and warm here,” said Olatz, “and it is where I learnt to swim. Take off your clothes.”
Inaki stood there in total confusion. He had never exposed himself to a girl before. Without another word she took off her tunic and dropped her long black skirt to the sand. She stood there naked. Her body was deeply tanned and the moonlight gave her dark olive skin a lustre that made her whole body glow. Inaki stared at the firm breasts with the dark round nipples. She was beautiful beyond anything he had ever seen. He stood there, opened mouthed and in total confusion, his blood racing.
“Oh, come on,” said Olatz impatiently.
Inaki took off his tunic and stopped.
“What’s the matter?”
Inaki looked at the ground blushing.
“Oh!” said Olatz, noting his discomfort and embarrassment. She giggled.
“So you like what you see, do you? Have you never seen a naked girl? I’m sure you have many times,” she teased. “Never mind, the cold water will soon restore you.”
She let out a peal of laughter and turning, ran into the river, followed by Storm and then Inaki, still with his pants held on firmly. Over the next few weeks Inaki and Olatz would often go down to the beach together. Inaki soon learnt to swim and he had fallen in love. Unbeknown to him, Olatz had chosen him from the moment she had set her eyes on him. From that time, she had decided to be his and that he would be hers.
The Moon Worshippers Page 6