Myth of the Moon Goddess - The Aradia Chronicles, Books One, Two and Three

by Rane, April

  “It is good to set you to laughter even if it is at my expense,” Diana replied. “I should have known that you would soon see through me. Well then, let me begin. Just now as I entered the garden I saw enormous pain on your face. Can you speak of it? It is important or I would not ask.”

  Czarinaea sat on a bench and looked out over the garden. The moments lingered. She did not speak

  “You have kept very busy since the death of Stryangaeus,” Diana said solemnly. “You have shut down your feelings, your memories, and your heart. You do your duty as queen; no one can fault you that, but there is no life coming from your body. And soon there will be no body, for you refuse your meals… or move the food around on your plate as if you look for something hidden there. Mayhap trying to solve the riddle of life?”

  “So,” Czarinaea interjected heatedly, “Can you give me the meaning of life? Or at least some reason why I am here? Truly life is a riddle, but something I care nor to solve, for it holds no interest for me. I cut my mother out of my life and I lost a child! I put my friend’s life in danger, thinking of my needs over hers, and lost a friend!”

  “Yes, and at the very bottom of the well you have dug for yourself, you find you have refused to love your mate and then you lose the man you love,” Diana replied. “You have dug the well deep enough, but tis usual to find water at the bottom. Water is purifying. It cleanses the heart… or you can drown in it.”

  It was not clear to Diana if her words could be heard by the queen, but wanting to pierce through her wall of anger, she continued.

  “You could choose to think you have no luck in these matters, or you could recognize what is before you. You can continue to close down your heart, using the reason of losing all that you have loved, or you could be enriched by the greatness of the love you have received.”

  Diana inched closer, seeking Czarinaea’s eyes.

  “How many people that you know have been blessed with a greater wiser mother than yours?” she demanded. “You have told me she is bold and honest. When she makes a decision it is for the good of her people. Know the fruit by the tree Czarinaea!”

  Sitting down heavily on the bench, Diana continued. “No one person that I know has had so trustworthy a friend as Lotzar. She left her family to be by your side and was honored to do so. Look to your friends and know ye who you are! And last but not least…no one person that I know save you, has been honored by the love of a man like Prince Stryangaeus. He gave you his heart and offered over his crown. But you could not take a man from his wife or a prince from his people. And so you refused him in life and now you refuse him in death? I say again, he gave you his heart and offered you his crown. Know ye that love given unreserved speaks well of the giver… and lives always in the heart of the receiver!”

  There was a long pause while she waited for the queen’s response. And when it came not, she continued.

  “What say you? Do you close your heart and his great love comes to naught? Or do you realize what greatness you have before you? The power of all that you have ever learned is in this moment.”

  Diana looked sadly upon the woman before her, a woman who had been her daughter in another time and place. The mid-wife, who had been known as Goddess of the Moon had accepted life on life’s terms, knowing the importance of this very moment. If her words could break through the wall of pain and anger of the woman standing before her, then her assistance during this pivotal moment in history would allow women to look on those that had come before them with pride.

  “You wanted to go to the temple. Instead you have come here to be the queen of a great and powerful people. I wanted to marry, yes, and to have children. Instead I went to the temple to learn the arts of healing. I thought I knew it all, but this earth has many secrets.” The midwife laughed, but it was not a joyous sound.

  “I have brought many children into the world and seen love from afar. I come in front of you now with teachings of the temple. How hear you these? As judgments, as censure? Or do you not hear them at all? All that I have said to you I have said in love, so then my part is done.” The mid-wife rose to go, then turned back for a moment and said, “Each thought you think or word you say produces fruit and yields itself in your world. So do not think thoughts you are not willing to wear… or say words you are not willing to eat.”

  Somehow those words jarred Czarinaea to full attention, as she remembered something Stryangaeus said that his mother had told him. “Become interested in watching how life is set in motion, yet dwell not in the watching but in the living.”

  Suddenly, the trees in the garden became more vivid, the colors of the wild flowers brightened, and she noticed the melodious songs of the birds. For a moment, she thought she felt Stryangaeus sitting beside her, and remembered what he had told her about the rose. “The petals are in groups of five to remind us of our humanness -the fact that we touch, taste, hear, see and smell. Under the petals, here on the base there is a star. Some of the Goddesses teach that we come from the stars, and that the rose is on earth to remind us of that. The divine scent spirals us to higher truths. Some priestesses use the scent of the rose to give prophecy.”

  Pulling the small vial, that had been given to her by her lover before she left Media, out of her pocket, she inhaled long and deep. It is indeed a glorious fragrance, she thought. Stryangaeus, I must know that you did not take your life. I cannot carry this burden forth with me.

  And then she heard his voice clear and crisp.

  “Czarinaea, you know in your heart what is true. What does your heart tell you?”

  Reaching up for the emerald on her neck, the sadness that was etched upon her face spilled over into words. “I am sorry that you are dead,” she told him. “The world is lesser because of it. What I have been forgetting is that I am more because I have known you. I hurt your memory by not accepting the part you played in my life. You taught me to love. I am sure you did not open that door for me to close it again because you are no longer on this earth. You opened it for me so that I could be a great queen to my people, and rule as my mother does from a place of love.”

  Slowly, unclasping the talisman from her neck, she held it in her hand, and finding herself stifled by her emotions, told herself to breathe. Only breathe. Word after word caught in her throat, words of anger, words of love, and words of missing him. The most frightening words were of guilt, the guilt of being angry with him… and with herself.

  “I was angry with you for dying because, as long as you were part of this earth, I could hope to have brief moments with you, to steal time. Time is one of the most precious things one person has to offer another. Our time was brief, but I will go a lifetime and not find fullness such as ours with any other man. So I vow that there shall never be another man in my heart, not because you have or ever would ask this of me, but simply that no other man can fill that place. So then…it is time for me to act as queen and meet with the councilmen to talk of the clan’s future. I must see to my duties for they have honored me by wanting me as their queen.”

  Czarinaea stood tall, her back straight and proud. Color flowed across the expanse of her high cheekbones as she thought of their physical love, at the same time that tears misted her eyes. Clasping the talisman around her neck once more to remind her of the faith he had had in her, she left the garden with Stryangaeus’ voice still echoing in her ear. “We have been together before, and we will be together again.”

  And watching her leave, Diana smiled, realizing that her work was done. And looking up at the moon she knew that she could now go home.

  All around her, the councilmen spoke at the same time, some shouting to be heard above the din. Czarinaea had been sitting quietly. When she stood the room became silent.

  “Good,” she said. “We have much to decide. Now that I have your attention, let us begin. Sit, all of you, and so shall I. You are good men. What has put you into such an uproar? Mareus, would you please speak for the group?”

  “Yes, my queen,” he be
gan.

  “Czarinaea will serve,” she interrupted him. “Addressing me as my queen, puts me in a place above you and that is not the case. Yes, I have become your leader. I will not forget that. I hope that someday when you say ‘my queen’ - mayhap at some official ceremony - you say it not only with respect for the office I carry but respect for how I carried the office. For a title should not be something you just receive, but an honor that is bestowed upon you when there has been an earning of it.”

  As the councilmen relaxed in their seats, Mareus rose, smiling broadly. “Czarinaea, thank you for considering our need to adjust to the circumstances,” he said. “I would like to speak for the majority here in the room. There is much concern, and even fear about the silence on the part of the Medes. Many of the council think we should send a portion of the dowry back and suggest that with the funds a statue of Stryangaeus be made and be placed in the center of their city in memory of his honor and his fairness in battle.”

  “And what do the other councilmen think?” she asked, with raised eyebrows.

  “I ah… well…”

  “No one will be flogged for what they think. Please speak.”

  “Well almost every man here wants peace. This is a prosperous time and we want to enjoy it with our families. T`is not that we have become cowards, simply that we are learning a better way. We like that you teach the men to pay attention to the oak tree, to stand straight and tall but never be afraid to bow, for this movement alone adds grace and agility to the mind. We are at the ready if war calls, but joining with the Medes in a royal marriage has many a bonus.”

  “T`is truth my queen – I mean my royal…” one of the other councilmen stammered, causing an outburst of laughter which broke the tension of the moment.

  “Gereaus, we laugh not at you but the circumstances we find ourselves in,” Czarinaea told him. “I think that we are all finding it funny that addressing me is the biggest point of the day, when so much has happened since the last moon. We focus on small unimportant things because the stakes are very high. We must act on this situation. We must be strong, yet not push. We must show great respect for Stryangaeus, for the man and for the life he lived. We must be careful not to approach the subject of his death overly much… for it brings up so many unanswered questions.”

  Nodding her head she looked at Vareus, Mareus’s brother who, she had noted, was proving to be as loyal as Mareus.

  “Let us focus on the marriage,” she continued. “We will send a crier that will state that we are looking forward to the plans that Prince Stryangaeus had put in effect. The crier, one of our very best, will glorify his talents, as well he deserved. We will state that the marriage will not only bless our peoples, but that the name of Stryangaeus will be central in our peace treaty. The statue is an excellent idea. We will ask that their very best sculptor begin plans to oversee the workmen that we will send, therefore making it a joint venture and we will send gold in good faith to be given to the sculptor that they choose.”

  “Is it such a good idea to send workman into their camp?” asked one of the councilmen.

  “It is a wonderful idea,” replied the queen, “if they will allow it. I will ask for volunteers, each one of which will receive a large pouch of gold and new boots for the journey. We will pick men that have no care or knowledge of state policy, those that care not about being a warrior and are not involved in the council. That way, if they are under scrutiny they can give no secrets away. So, are we ready to follow through on the plan? How say you?”

  There was a loud clamor of agreement and a banging of cups upon the table as the vote was tallied. Only two held out, grumbling that they would be seen as weaklings.

  “There is one more thing we must bring up,” Mareus interjected. “There is a rebel group high east of here. They have stolen a horse or two and taken a few children from the out-lying clan that will be going into manhood by the spring equinox. They also have taken young women to mate with. We need to know how to deal with this. We have sent warriors after them, but they are hard to find, for they disappear into the hills after each raid.”

  “Call a small group of warriors together,” Queen Czarinaea said thoughtfully. “See that there are many good looking women as part of the group, or men that can pass as women. They are to look defenseless. Tell them to camp a day’s ride high east of here in the hills. Once the rebels raid the mock camp, our warriors will know exactly what to do. See that the rebels are kept alive, at least as many as can be handled safely. Once they are brought back here we will learn more of their people and their ways. Perhaps we can become allies.

  “And now, we are through for this day. I feel that we have accomplished much. What say you?”

  The councilmen nodded enthusiastically and began to rise. There were a few startled faces for many were leaving without bowing their heads in deference to the queen. The king had always expected it, and had men punished for not treating him with the respect he felt he deserved. Those that took the time to bow their heads were startled to see the queen bow hers in return. Her heart was very full for these men that trusted her. She would not let them down. She would die for them if it came to that.

  She remembered how hard she had fought against her mother about coming here. A strong surge of emotion overwhelmed her, and love for her mother filled her heart. She must, she knew, get a message to her of all that has come about, and she must also send a message to Lotzar’s family and let them know of her bravery, as well as how much it meant to her that she chose to leave her family and come here. Taking one more look around the room, she thought that even though her mother would be proud of her, she would not be surprised at the turn of events or even how she had handled them, for as well she knows horseflesh, she knows people. Czarinaea determined to send her a message on the morrow.

  After a prosperous and jovial meeting, filled with camaraderie and congratulations to the assembly about their good harvest, the council then boasted about the well planned skirmish in which a few women and two new warriors had gratefully joined their clan. With their business completed the council decided to adjourn.

  As Czarinaea stood nodding to the men that were filing out, a mammoth man, one side of his face disfigured by crisscross scars, and wearing a battered breast plate on which the Mede crest was barely visible, shoved his way through the throng. Two Scythian guards, attempting to hold him back were as ineffective as flees on a dog.

  “I demand to see the king in the name of my people!” he shouted. “They have been robbed of their Prince. A prince they themselves chose!” Stopping in front of Czarinaea, he snarled, “Where is your leader?”

  “You are looking at the leader of the Scythian people sir,” said Czarinaea standing tall, one hand resting on the hilt of her sword, “and you have disrupted our council. An apology is in order.”

  “And just who the hell are you?” he hollered, spittle sprayed from a cavernous hole in his face as he hovered over her like a solid oak tree. “Well speak up woman!”

  The sound of his voice vibrating off the walls caused every man in the room to reach for his weapon.

  “Stand down,” Czarinaea cried. “I think it would be wise for you to tell me who you are, and state your business before my men have you for breakfast.”

  “Your men are as incompetent as sick dogs!” he said, spitting on the floor. “How can they be men if they have you for a ruler? It can’t be so! Your king is so cowardly he hides behind a woman’s skirt, for he knows I will gut him for killing my prince! I challenge the true leader of the Scythians to meet me in battle. As custom dictates, he may choose the place and the three weapons he will use. Does he accept this royal challenge?”

  “I hear you,” Czarinaea’s voice was steady and smooth, “and I accept your challenge.”

  “You fools are not taking me serious,” he shouted as he slammed his fist on the table in front of Czarinaea. “I cannot fight this woman!”

  “I am not a woman,” she told him. “I am a Scyth
ian warrior. And you sir will live to regret your challenge.”

  Looking at her, it seemed for the first time, his laughter was as obnoxious as his shouts and his challenging manner. “Perhaps the spineless Scythians don’t understand a challenge of this sort,” he growled. “It, of course, will be a fight to the death.”

  “If that be the case,” said Czarinaea, throwing her head back to stare up at him, “then I am sure that your family will miss you. Mareus,” she said to her lead council, “call out more guards and let them escort our guest to the appropriate quarters. Oh…” and addressing the hulking man that stood in front of her she said, “And it would be helpful if we had your name when we bring your breastplate to your king with the regrettable news.”

  And with that, Czarinaea swept out of the room as the council and additional guards surrounded the angry man and led him to the prison barracks.

  Once done with overseeing their hulking guest to his quarters, Mareus and his brother noticed that two Medes had been shackled by Scythian guards and were sitting quietly by the door of the prison. They explained that they were slaves sworn to fight by the side of Ceilapeus the Slayer, and had entered camp with him in search of the leader of the Scythians.

  “Are the Medes not aware that the king is dead,” Mareus questioned, “and that we have a new leader?”

  “To be honest sir, there have been wild rumors of a lady king,” said the smaller of the two, bobbing his head in deference to Mareus, “but Ceilapeus has been so infuriated by the death of the one person who had ever given him a kind word, that his ears have been closed to any such news.”

  “T`is true sir,” said the other slave, knotted rope hindering his handless arm as he attempted to scratch his filthy face.

  “How is it again that you are to assist this Ceilapeus?” said Vareus while looking them over in complete astonishment, “He doesn’t seem to need…well anything other than a bath and some manners…”