Ugard and Onna’s first grandchild was Wiglaff and Onya’s female child Boadicea. Two days later their second grandchild, the male child Mornow, was born to Morfar and Winna. Boadicea, the favorite niece of her Aunt Winna, became the second greatest warrior maid in human memory, only surpassed by her namesake who wreaked havoc on Rome in 61 AD. Mornow, the protégé of his Uncle Wiglaff, became a most famous black magician whose visions inspired and terrified leaders all over the world.
As to who won the shaman wars, the results are ambiguous. In the broadest terms both deities and shamans survived the proximate shaman wars, and their legacies continued in parallel for centuries. As for whether the shaman Ugard caused the plague that saved the villages, visions can be reflections of events without respect of time. Causes are conventions, and the surprise of love can supervene at any time and turn all of creation upside down.
“The vision of a crumbling civilization has less value than one chance meeting of a man and a woman on a mountain top.” At least that’s the way the retired shaman Ugard put it just before he died. As to whether he meant his own meeting with Onna on that mountain top or his protégé’s meeting with Onya, who can tell?
Chapter Four
Imperial Consolidation
“The element quicksilver was considered, with its high mobility the materialization of the spirit of Mercury. Gold is the materialization of the light of the sun, of God. Gold and quicksilver have a high affinity quickly forming amalgams.”
– Prehistoric Gold in Europe: Mines, Metallurgy and Manufacture, Proceedings of the NATO Advanced Workshop on Prehistoric Gold in Europe, 1993.
Under the Roman Emperor Septimius Severus, the Great Wall in Britannia that had begun in the time of the Emperor Hadrian was consolidated and strengthened by an increase in imperial forces and a strengthened supply chain from the south. Two hundred years later, a surviving letter to his mother from a lonely Roman soldier patrolling Hadrian’s Wall indicated that the frontier was no different from other military frontiers of all ages. The soldier who wrote home was bored by the numbing routine and disgusted by the military food. Like other such attempts to provide a tangible remedy for intangible threats, the Wall became more a symbol than a barrier.
The ineffectual, corrupt Senate and People of Rome were tired of paying the expenses of maintaining their empire and fatigued by what seemed to be perpetual war. No matter what the Romans did, they could not make significant progress subjecting Caledonia any further along than they had done, and anyway, that was only one sore spot around the periphery of the sprawling, fragmenting empire. Rome would soon be challenged by unforeseen enemies from the East and by many of its supposedly subjugated peoples. This was not surprising, since cruel tribute and always increasing taxation paid to greedy tax farmers were recipes for revolution. While the rest of Britannia lay in chains, Caledonia remained wild and free.
It was not only the cold climate and long supply lines that kept the Romans at bay. In Caledonia, sporadic imperial scouting parties were rebuffed successfully by the Caledonian Confederation, led by chieftains like Argentocoxos, whose wife dared openly to trade insults with the Empress Julia Domna. Devious guerilla tactics by the Caledonians assailed the invaders without relenting. The most remarkable ill fortune accompanied any sustained military activity against the north. Septimius Severus amassed significant forces to make another attempt to conquer the area to the north of the Wall. While the Romans consolidated their position at the Wall, the Caledonians raided settlements to the south of it. The Romans sometimes sallied forth above the Wall. In time, a dangerous equilibrium was established.
Wiglaff’s sister Winna and her female soldiers kept up the pressure on the imperial forces with the patronage of Argentocoxos, among the most powerful Caledonian chieftains. Wiglaff provided his sister critical intelligence about imperial movements and counseled her and her husband on their strategy and tactics.
Marriage did not adversely affect Wiglaff’s uncanny skills as a shaman. Onya bore him seven children and never complained about the time he spent in his cave on the mountain doing his job. Wiglaff was wise enough to recognize the talents of each of his children and to encourage them in pursuits that would complement their talents. So it was with his eldest daughter Boadicea, who was the image of his warrior sister Winna. In the cradle the infant was as strong as her famous aunt, and when Winna first met her, she knew her niece was worth cultivating in all the martial arts. So as soon as she was able to visit, Boadicea spent her time with Winna and her children.
Because Winna’s first-born son Mornow was the image of her shaman brother and the bane of her warrior husband’s existence, he was shipped off early to live in his Uncle Wiglaff’s household to become a shaman-in-training before the infant could speak. Wiglaff was the perfect father figure for his extremely sensitive nephew. They would spend hours together in the cave on the mountain. Wiglaff pored over his feathers and chemicals while Mornow played with the live animals that his uncle kept in cages.
Mornow’s first expressions of language were the sounds that a white goat made. He was so fascinated by Wiglaff’s raven that the two communicated with a special kind of cawing. The bird would perch on Mornow’s shoulder and mutter while the boy explored wooden figures that Wiglaff had carved for him. The infant was so intrigued by the death cry of a rabbit sacrifice that he mimicked it repeatedly, terrifying future rabbits that trembled when they heard the unmistakable sound.
Wiglaff, himself inured to the magical arts, recognized immediately the innate skills Mornow exhibited. He did not hesitate to stimulate a talent that the small child showed, encouraging him to strengthen a skill right from the start. For example, Mornow liked looking up at the stars with his uncle, who told him how the heavens revolved through the night. Wiglaff taught the boy the phases of the moon and told him how human dispositions changed with the changing moon. Mornow’s constant fascination was, however, not the moon but the sun. Wiglaff’s cock announced the sun, and his nephew would mimic the crowing sound. Mornow studied the cock’s behavior carefully to assess what signs made the cock crow. After a time, they would announce the day together. Then Mornow became even more acutely aware of the coming dawn than the cock. The cock would follow the boy’s crowing as if it had been caught out in an error of timing. Mornow was inspired and taught his crow to caw at the rising sun.
Wiglaff knew whenever Mornow was entering one of his black studies of melancholy. He did not disturb the boy during this formative time. Mornow would become frighteningly introspective and sometimes weep uncontrollably. Wiglaff knew the feeling well because he had experienced such episodes himself. Mornow understood his uncle’s concern. He paid him the compliment of not bothering the shaman when he was lost in what he called his “other world.” Occasionally, they would visit the “other world” together. When they emerged from their mystical trances, they would laugh together about what they had shared separately, in isolation from each other and from their worldly sensations.
The boy had a remarkable ability of focusing his attention on something. He become entirely absorbed while studying a flower, a gem, a shape, a creature, the rain, a rainbow, clouds, shadows, or almost anything at all. Wiglaff let the boy’s imagination run wild. So Mornow’s earliest human speech was poetry, with a mystical bent, sometimes intentionally humorous and usually short.
Mornow’s linguistic gifts included his understanding of humans in any language and animals as well. What astounded Wiglaff most were his nephew’s empathic powers and his innate capability at envisioning. Mornow was capable of viewing future events in vivid detail. He foresaw one visit by his mother Winna, though no one knew she was coming. He described her new horse down to the white star pattern on its black chest. He mentioned the snowdrops she was going to be wearing plaited in her hair. Onya afterwards pointed out Mornow’s premonition of his mother’s new pregnancy, including the fact that she would deliver healthy twin girls.
Wiglaff encouraged his son’s clairvoyance wi
th lessons that he devised based on his own self-tutelage. Using a flame and chemicals, he elicited from his nephew prophesies that turned out to be accurate if they were properly interpreted. When Wiglaff probed how his nephew’s fabulous talent worked, he deduced that Mornow could read minds at great distances. He had no misgivings about Mornow’s power. It certainly could be a dangerous talent in the wrong hands, yet he trusted his nephew implicitly. He saw in the boy the reflection of his youth and liked what he saw.
This passive intrusion was only the beginning of the boy’s ability. The more Mornow experimented with mind reading, the more he began to manipulate the thoughts of other creatures, including fellow humans.
The wounded wolf mother was an example. One spring day Mornow discovered the wounded, pregnant wolf on the trail leading up the side of the mountain to the cavern. The injured animal viciously snapped and growled at Mornow as he approached her. Understanding her pain, the young boy let the wolf know he meant her no harm. Her yellow eyes became fixed on his crystal blue eyes. He muttered wolf language at her to allay her fear of him. Then he stroked her, picked her up gently and carried her to the cavern, where Wiglaff prepared a blanket for her time of labor. The wolf delivered five pups and suckled them.
Mornow watched with fascination and fed the mother fresh rabbit meat. He had a premonition that the female wolf’s life partner was searching for her and the pups on the mountainside. Focusing his mind on the male wolf, he drew the animal to the cavern, where it was reunited with its mate. The two wolves lifted each pup in turn and carried it to a sheltered area under a rock ledge farther up the mountain. When all the pups had been transferred, the male wolf returned to lick Mornow’s hand in gratitude. From that time forth the boy had a special relationship with the wolf family.
In the example of the wolf, Wiglaff saw in his nephew the potential for developing a peacemaker. With infinite pains he encouraged Mornow to bring animals together that were natural enemies and make them friends. Mornow trained a fox to play with a hare. He trained a cat to be friends with a large rat. He trained his wolf family to watch over the village herd of sheep. The trouble was that the animals had natural instincts that had to be satisfied for sustenance and survival. The fox that played with the hare killed and ate other rabbits. The cat enjoyed playing with the rat but continued to be an excellent mouser. The wolf family protected the village sheep but feasted on the sheep of other villages. So Wiglaff saw the limitations of Mornow’s powers. Still, he thought they might be useful in dealing with the Romans.
Mornow, like the young Wiglaff of former days, was considered strange in the village. Other children avoided him and talked about him insidiously behind his back. Mornow was able to tell what a person was thinking just by looking at his eyes. When a person spoke, Mornow heard what the person really wanted to say. When they did not speak, Mornow would embarrass his contemporaries by saying what they were thinking. This did not make the situation better for him because others’ amusement and disdain became hatred.
Mornow told Wiglaff, “The children of the village hate and fear me more than the Romans do.”
Wiglaff told his nephew and protégé, “I empathize with your situation. You’ve no need to be defensive. There’s nothing you can do to change the way others will instinctively respond to you. You can, however, affect their thoughts somewhat.”
In frustration about his being strange, Mornow liked to practice being invisible. He found he could walk through his crowded village without anyone realizing he was there. When he used natural cover in the forest, no one could find him. Since he was therefore the perfect spy, Wiglaff sent him on delicate intelligence missions in his early teens. The boy was never detected. He managed to get close to those he was to observe and always escaped with the required information. When Wiglaff needed to know the progress that the Romans had made on the Wall, Mornow went south to do reconnaissance. He returned with a detailed account of the state of construction and the complete organization and auxiliary support of the Roman forces. This and other raw intelligence were used by his mother to plan her raids and to harass the imperial forces constantly
As a young man, Mornow was a seasoned observer providing invaluable information to the Caledonian Confederation. Wiglaff did not reckon on his protégé’s becoming a target of Roman counterintelligence, which included the priests and priestesses of Mercury, Roman god of stealth, theft and flight. Those priests determined that unusual means were being directed by the insurgents against the legion devoted to the security of the north region of Britannia. Disguised, they tried to penetrate the insurgents’ defenses to discover what their secrets were. One priestess in particular was adept at languages and disguises. Her name was Alma. As the daughter of a Roman father and Caledonian mother, she was an enigma to both sides in the conflict.
Posing as a dispossessed villager, Alma made her way north, pretending to search for her real mother, who she claimed was lost in the fighting during the last Roman invasion above the Wall. She painted her body blue and wore a rabbit skin dress. Her beauty was her passport as she penetrated the villages, accepting nightly hospitality as she wandered through Caledonia. Winna’s warriors found her walking through a forest path and took her to their leader.
“You say your name is Alma and you’re looking for your mother,” Winna said as she looked over the girl, who was about the age of her own daughter Boadicea. She was skeptical and thought the girl might be a spy.
“That’s right. My mother became lost during the last big fight against the Romans. I’ve gone from village to village, but I can’t find her. I won’t believe she died. She was a survivor.”
“After all the years, anything might have happened to her.”
“I won’t stop looking. Do you think you can help me?”
“I’m not sure I can, but I can spread the word in the Confederation about a missing person who once had a daughter of your description. How can I reach you with any information I glean?”
“That’s the problem. I can’t stay anywhere for long. I have to keep moving to find her. Maybe if you ask about my mother and she hears about it, she’ll know I’m alive and looking for her. That might help her find me.” Alma’s voice trailed in a whimper. She seemed distressed and on the verge of crying.
“That doesn’t make sense to me,” Winna said. “Look, I’ve an idea. Why don’t I take you to someone who will determine where your mother is without having to travel at all?”
“Thank you. I’ll go wherever I need to go. I’d be eternally grateful if you can help me find my mother.”
Winna escorted the woman to her own village and told her to wait in an abandoned hut nearby her own. She gave Alma food and a blanket made of bears’ skins. She left Boadicea in charge of attending to Alma’s needs while she went to fetch Wiglaff.
Boadicea became suspicious of Alma’s motives because the woman was constantly wanting to turn their conversation to secrets about the Caledonian insurgents.
“Boadicea, your mother seems to be a powerful woman and a great huntress.”
“My aunt is the equal of any man in battle. My mother and she also have many children, among which I am lucky to be one.”
“You’re lucky to know where your mother is. I don’t have that luxury.”
“I’ve been trained to like my independence.” Boadicea asserted this with a smile.
“Don’t you wonder when the fighting will end?” Alma asked her.
“The fighting will never end.” Boadicea said this with finality, her eyes flashing.
“One day, perhaps, the Romans will be gone,” Alma ventured.
“That doesn’t matter. If the Romans go—and I doubt they ever will—we’ll fight among ourselves. It has always been that way. The fighting will never cease as long as we are human and free.”
“I think the fighting is senseless.”
“You don’t sound like a Caledonian when you say that.” Boadicea challenged the woman, but she didn’t seem to hear what she said.
“The war divided me from my mother. I have no father.”
“War does that. It seems to me you have two choices. You can find a man to love and protect you or you can become a warrior. There’s no third path except incessant wandering, like you’re doing now.” She was purposely challenging the girl, probing her to see whether she was weak spirited.
“I’m an ordinary woman, not a warrior woman like you. You look as strong as any man.”
Boadicea responded, “Strength has little to do with victory in war. That’s what my aunt says, and I believe her.”
“Anyway, I’m not as strong as you. If I were looking to join the insurgency, where would I go?” Alma appeared sincerely perplexed.
“Keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll find what you call the insurgency. Or rather, it will find you.” Boadicea was now fully on her guard.
“Where did your aunt go?” Alma asked innocently.
“I’ve no idea. She has a thousand things on her mind. She could have gone anywhere.” Boadicea was curt, even becoming rude to deflect Alma’s questions from their purpose.
“She said she’d fetch someone who could find my mother without traveling anywhere to do it.”
“Alma, if that’s what she told you, that’s what she’ll do.” Boadicea sounded defensive and crossed her arms over her breasts defiantly.
“How’s it possible to find someone without going anywhere? I’m confused.”
Boadicea changed the subject abruptly. “Are you religious?”
“Do you mean, ‘Do you believe in gods?’ What has that got to do with anything practical?”
“Nothing. The Romans think otherwise, I’m told.” Boadicea was trying to be cagey, but her words came out clumsy and stilted.
“That’s what I’ve heard too.”
“A lot of good their gods have done for the Romans.” This was pure sarcasm. Boadicea felt she was on firm ground with this assertion. Her father had told her how futile the Roman priests and priestesses had been in the last war.
The WIglaff Tales (The Wiglaff Chronicles Book 1) Page 10