Priestess of the Fire Temple (21 page)

“Your father was given a Cristaide burial.”

“That's not at all what he wanted!”

“I know, but none of us was in a position to argue. Father Cassius has many followers amongst the flaith. Since he got here, he has been preaching day and night against the evils of the Druid. Your actions have only provided proof of his claims.”

“My actions? He is a newcomer to Ériu—he knows nothing about Druid philosophy!”

“I know, but if he repeats his message often enough, eventually the people will come to believe it, no matter how twisted it might be. He is telling everyone that you are a murderer and a witch. But he has forgiven Artrach, saying that he was bewitched by you.”

“I am glad of that. At least he will be safe.”

“All I can offer you now is my blessing. I know that you are innocent and that you acted only from the goodness of your heart.”

Sweet Father Justan; as he made the sign of the cross in the air to bless me, there were actually tears in his eyes. He turned his back on me and disappeared into the night.

Before dawn I had yet another visitor. The two guards who were watching my cell had fallen asleep on the grass, wrapped in their capes against the cold. Artrach was able to creep right up to the cell door and whisper into my ear.

“I love you, you know that.”

“Yes, I do. I love you too.”

His words were like warm spring rain on frozen earth. We kissed through the bars.

“Crithid has gone back to the Fire Temple to alert the Bríg Brigu.”

“Oh, thank the gods! She is the only one who can extricate me from this mess.”

For the first time, I began to feel a glimmer of hope.

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32

I
hoarded my little cache of bread, cheese, apples, and dried meat carefully, grateful to my brother for his kindness. I had no visitors for a week. Then one morning a crowd arrived with Father Cassius at the head to judge me.

“Here before you stands a ban-Drui,” Father Cassius pointed to me. By now my hair was matted and my clothes were smelly, filthy, and wrinkled. I was sure I looked like any common criminal.

“These Druid are the most wretched, barbarous, and degraded
people
on the island. They are without justice, without mercy. As you have seen, they will even kill their parents just to please the Pagani gods they serve.

“They perform their idolatrous rites in groves of oak trees. They strip their victims naked, tie them to a tree, and then disembowel them. Then they dance in their victim's blood and pretend to tell the future from the blood flow! This is what the Princess Aislinn was attempting to do when I stopped her. If I had not arrived in time, she would have split the king open and pulled out his entrails!”

There was a wail of horror from the crowd. Several of the women began weeping. One of them called out, “In Albu it is said that the Druid burn their prisoners in large wicker cages!”

The crowd inhaled as one, shocked at the horrible allegation.

The priest confirmed her statement. “They will burn hundreds of victims in a day, all the while singing hymns to their false, cruel gods and dancing around the burning bodies. In this way they breed all tenderness and mercy out of the people, leaving only soulless cruelty in their wake!”

Dálach-gaes and Niamh were crying now, but for a different reason. They had never heard such false and outlandish lies spoken about their ancient spiritual path; it was almost too much to bear. But they stayed put, doggedly taking in the angry rhetoric spewing from the priest's mouth.

They did it for me.

“What shall we do with this disgusting creature that fouls the very air she breathes?”

The priest swept the crowd with his glance. A man stepped forward.

“Kill her, I say.”

Emboldened by the man's speech, others began adding their voices:

“Burn her, just like those Druid burn
their
prisoners!”

“Tear out her bowels!”

“Whip her until she dies!”

I could see Artrach in the crowd. White-faced, he leaned heavily on Dálach-gaes. Tears of sadness and rage were streaming from his eyes.

“Open the gates!” the priest commanded, and the guards took a large iron key and turned it in the lock.

The crowd moved closer. Now I could see the bloodlust in their eyes, something I had never witnessed before. It had a distinct smell, like a pack of hungry animals. I had a brief memory of a mob of ravens I had seen once; they had landed on a sparrow and pecked it to death, eating out its brains like a delicacy.

I instinctively moved further back into the cell in an effort to escape their wrath. I was unable to still my fear.

“Come forward, woman!” Cassius bellowed. But my legs had turned to wood, and I could not take a step. The priest came into my cell and pulled me out by the arms, then pushed me forward towards the angry crowd.

“Here she is! Will you do what you must to get rid of this stain, this blight upon the kingdom?”

“Stand down!” said a loud female voice of authority from somewhere behind the crowd.

It was the Bríg Brigu! She had appeared out of nowhere with her followers. They must have ridden day and night! She stepped forward, and the people parted like waves of the sea.

Her appearance was, to me, like the glorious sun rising up out of a cold, murky ocean. She had never looked so beautiful to my eyes, with her long hair streaming in the breeze. She carried a polished silver shield and a silver spear, like some fairy queen from the ancient tales. The white silver gleamed in the sunlight, blinding those who dared to look too long upon her. The faint smell of beeswax wafted from her snowy white robes, and as I inhaled the aroma could I feel my fear melting, liquid honey soothing my heart.

The Druid of Cell Daro were with her, gorgeously attired in their finest robes and jewelry, also carrying polished shields, burnished spears, and daggers. It was an awesome sight.

“Who is this woman?” the priest demanded.

Suddenly the people were afraid. The crowd that followed the Bríg Brigu was even larger than the assembled villagers from In Medon. And the Bríg Brigu herself had thick, ankle-length, glossy hair; terrible flashing eyes; and a massive torque around her neck. They had no idea who she was, but she was clearly very powerful.

Now the crowd stood still as sheep, mute and unsure of which way to turn or who to follow.

“Take care!” the Bríg Brigu said in a tone that cut like a sword. “If you harm one hair of this poor innocent woman's head, there will be a huge calamity upon your land.”

“Don't listen to her. She is a witch!” Father Cassius cried.

The Bríg Brigu continued, ignoring the priest. “I promise that if you harm your princess, the sun goddess Áine Clí herself will blight your crops and sicken your animals!”

“She is a sorceress! Don't listen to her!” Father Cassius screamed.

The Bríg Brigu continued: “I say wait. Within three days the Goddess will pronounce her judgment. If nothing happens to hurt your fields or cattle, it will be because your new god Ísu has triumphed. But if a terrible calamity comes upon your homes and fields, it will be because the Goddess herself is seeking to defend her priestess. Will you not wait for the results of the test?”

“Don't listen to her; she is lying!” Father Cassius said.

Dálach-gaes took advantage of the frightened indecision of the crowd to step forward and attempt to sway them.

“Yes! Give her three days. Is that too much to ask when a life is at stake? Let's see whose god is most powerful!”

The people had not forgotten the exalted rank of the Druid, no matter that their holy nemed was now hidden behind screens of yew. They remembered the many sicknesses that the Druid had healed, the wounds stitched, the babies birthed. They looked from the priest to Dálach-gaes and then to the Bríg Brigu and her followers, awed and confused.

The atmosphere felt as if the air had been let out of a giant pig's bladder. Everyone seemed deflated except the Bríg Brigu and her followers, who bristled with energy and will.

I was shoved back into my cell, and the iron key was turned again in its lock. But this time I was given hot food, clean clothes, hot water, soap, and blankets, and my closest friends and Artrach stayed by the door to keep me company unimpeded. I was secure once more, safe in the midst of a great hive of love and caring.

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33

T
he Bríg Brigu, an eminent guest, was not expected to sleep on the ground near my cell. Instead, she was settled into the roundhouse of Dálach-gaes and Niamh, while her highest-ranking followers went to the schoolhouse or slept in the open on the ground of the nemed. Their horses were quartered in the barns of the dun.

When he wasn't by my side, Artrach went hunting for deer. Many of the others, including the ban-Druid, went fishing and foraging for greens in the forest. We could not count on the hospitality of Tuilelaith and Eógan, who were ruling the kingdom until a formal election could be declared.

“I feel as if we are at war,” Niamh confided to the Bríg Brigu.

“That's because we are,” the Bríg Brigu replied. “I can foresee that this will be a very long and protracted battle, with many turnings of the tides. But surely the wisdom of the old ways will prevail. Pure water will dissolve even the hardest stone eventually.”

And so we waited. One day passed, then two.

Nessa came to visit me, producing thick beeswax candles from under her cloak. “May the glow of these candles remind you of the Fire Altar. Know that prayers are being said for you at every watch, night and day.”

“What do you think is going to happen?” I asked Artrach as he sat pressed close to the iron bars late one night.

“We have to have faith that the Bríg Brigu knows what she is doing,” he said.

We fell asleep then, he lying on the ground next to me and the cold iron bars between our two forms. When he was near me like that, it always felt as if no evil could possibly befall us—we became home for each other, our two bodies making one complete world.

The next morning the Bríg Brigu woke everyone before sunrise and told them to sit in a large circle in the field in front of the prisoner's mound. Father Cassius was alerted by the guards and came running to see what diabolical magic was being enacted.

“Just wait and be silent,” said the Bríg Brigu, “no matter what he does or says.”

Everyone sat still, ignoring the priest.

“You will be lost on the Day of Judgment! The Lord is quick to testify against sorcerers, perjurers, magicians, adulterers, and whores! You are the ones who rebel against the Light. You do not know its ways or its paths!”

The priest was running around the circle now, hopping from one foot to the other in his zeal.

“You may sing now,” said the Bríg Brigu to her followers.

The circle of people began to hum a little, finding a note, and then gradually a full-throated song emerged:

Hail to thee, Áine

Fiery torch of many blessings

Our faithful light in every season

Traversing the skies

On the wings of the morning!

Mother of the stars

Pour your light upon us

Glory to thee! Glory to thee! Glory to thee!

Father Cassius continued running around the circle, trying to silence the singers. My father's wolfhounds had come to investigate the commotion and were yapping and biting at the priest's heels.

I could feel great shimmering waves of power rising from the ground to the skies and I knew that magic was afoot, but I had no idea what it might be.

The Bríg Brigu motioned to Dálach-gaes and Niamh to follow her into the center of the ring. The three of them sat down, calmly holding hands in the exact center of the circle. The Druid were singing louder now, in an effort to drown out the objections of Father Cassius. This scene continued for a very long time, and every so often the Bríg Brigu or Dálach-gaes would gaze towards the heavens. I did not know why; I thought that maybe they were seeking a sign from Áine Clí.

A crowd of curious villagers and warriors had gathered and stood in clumps at intervals around the ring of singing Druid, taking in the mysterious rite.

I offered up my own prayer to Áine for protection and guidance.

The sun was halfway to noontide when it happened. The birds began to fall out of the sky in clusters, darting for the trees. Cattle that had been cutting the grass before the gates of the dun suddenly formed an orderly line and headed back to the dairy barns, even though they had been recently milked. A black veil was being drawn across the shining eye of the Goddess as all creation prepared for night—in the middle of the morning!

All except the humans, that is. Cries of fear and pleas for protection issued from the mouths of the onlookers. The Bríg Brigu raised her hands to the skies and, as if it were a planned signal, the singers went completely silent.

Now the sinister black veil completely swallowed the sun. The cries of dismay from the gathered onlookers grew even louder than before. Some fell to their knees in shock; others ran back to their homes to tend to their children and the aged.

The Bríg Brigu stood up, calmly addressing Father Cassius. “Our Goddess has made her wishes plain. She has turned her back upon this kingdom and on these people because of what you have done.” She swept her arm in a circle, indicating the frightened crowds. “She will not smile upon us again until you release Princess Aislinn.”

“Lies! What you see is the lord God turning his gaze away from your depraved rites! He will uncover the skies when he pleases. And he won't be pleased until all the Druid are all driven into the sea!”

But the people had their own ideas. A group of men lunged forward, assaulting the guards before my cell and pulling the iron key from the belt of one of them. Then they stormed over to let me out.

The warriors of the dun stood by watching as if they had turned to stone, making no move to aid the guards. It seemed they favored the actions of the men who sought to free me. The very moment I was liberated from my cage, the black veil started to slide away, slowly uncovering the blazing eye of the Goddess.

“I told you so! Áine is pleased! Now your grain and your herds and your lives will be safe!” said the Bríg Brigu.

“O Áine, patroness of the crops, who gives birth to the sheaves of grain, we honor you!”

The Bríg Brigu fell to her knees, and all the Druid followed suit. I shook with shock, relief, and joy. The people outside the circle were dancing, ecstatic to have regained the favor of their ancient goddess.

And then a further miracle—it still brings tears to my eyes to recount the incredible blessing we received that day. When the sun's eye was completely uncovered, a bright triple rainbow appeared, making three perfect circles around the sun.

Father Justan walked up to Abbott Cassius, and I overheard their conversation.

“See the holy sign of hope? This is one of God's miracles, is it not?”

“Miracle? I doubt it. That old sorceress somehow knew that there would be an eclipse on this day. The Druid are well known for their knowledge of the sun and the stars.”

“But why do you feel compelled to spread such terrible lies about them?”

Father Cassius paused. “I would do all and anything in my power to bring them into the fold and put an end to their disgusting habits and rituals.”

“Cassius, did not our Lord say ‘Judge not, that ye be not judged'? We must strive to live in love with all of God's creatures, even if their ways are difficult for us to understand,” said Father Justan. Then he turned towards my open cell to congratulate me and to offer his blessings.

That same day, before the townsfolk could change their minds, the Druid—including Niamh, Dálach-gaes, their students and children— took their horses, carts, and any other available conveyance and began the long journey back to the Fire Temple. It was a drastic step, but one we knew we had to take for the sake of protecting our lives and our teachings. We left my father's dun to the spiritual guidance of Father Justan and to the tender mercies of the Cristaidi missionaries to better focus our efforts on preserving the Druid path.

Artrach and I traveled in the back of a cart. He held me in a tight embrace all the way back to the Fire Temple until the warmth of his heart, blood, and bone finally penetrated every secret pocket of fear that I carried.

I was not foolish enough to think that all the effort that had gone into my rescue was for me alone. I knew that the Bríg Brigu and the Druid were working to preserve the dignity of our ancient faith. To them, I represented all that was being pushed aside in the new world that was coming.

But there was one person for whom all this effort was just for me. That was Artrach, the other half of my body and my soul.

By the time we had reached the borders of the temple lands, I was a priestess once more: proud, confident, and ready to honor my gods and the earth, moon, and sun.

Dálach-gaes, Niamh, Artrach, and I took up residence in the Fire Temple while the others melted into the surrounding tuath. From that day forth, only an eye that was schooled in the mysteries would ever be able to pick the Druid out from the farmers, beekeepers, and craftsmen of the village.

Two moontides later, we had word that my brother Eógan had been elected ard-ri. He had led a successful raid to the north and recaptured all the cattle my father had lost. He also brought back several prize breeding bulls, which cemented his reputation with the tribes.

Not long after that, I discovered that I was with child.

“It's time that we were handfast in the eyes of everyone,” Artrach declared.

He secured the permission of the Bríg Brigu, my spiritual guide, and also of Dálach-gaes and Niamh, who stood in as my foster parents, and immediately began to work on a roundhouse for us and our future family. It simply would not have been practical to have a newborn infant in the Fire Temple, wailing and fussing throughout the night.

He chose a secluded location at the edge of the forest where a little stream flowed and sang merrily. With all the Druid pitching in, it took only a few days for our new hearth and home to be ready. Nessa made sure that a small bronze cauldron was buried directly under the soil of the hearth, and she also gave Artrach a bronze oil lamp to hang from the roof, directly over the hearth stones—“So that your house will be a miniature Fire Temple, just like every other roundhouse in this tuath,” she explained.

The night before our handfasting, Artrach and I had separate baths in the Fire Temple, to soak in sacred herbs of purification. Vervain and juniper were chief among them, as I recall. We also trimmed our hair and offered it to the flames of the Fire Temple's hearth as a gift for the ancestors.

Dálach-gaes and Niamh offered butter to the flames of the Fire Altar and sponsored a feast of goats, sheep, and a cow. They slaughtered the animals in the ritual way, offering the parts to each of the elements and to the earth and sky before securing the animals on the roasting spits. Looking into the eyes of each beast, they first made sure it was calm, and then they cleanly slit its throat. They supervised as the skins were pulled off and the entrails removed.

As each skinned and cleaned animal was taken away for cooking in the roasting pits, Dálach-gaes and Niamh kept back a bit of its blood and a small portion of meat to place into the Fire Altar. The night before the handfasting, they joined the firekeeper at her post under the stars and placed choice bits of the animals into the flames, piece by piece, repeating by turns the ancient song of offering:

May your blood flow to the waters

May the waters be pure

May your bones feed the rocks

Lending their strength

May your flesh feed the soil

Making it fruitful

May your hair nourish the plants

And cause them to flourish

May your eyes join

The fires in the sky

May your brain join

The clouds in the heavens

May your skull join

The great vault of the sky

May your spirit run free

In the sun-filled pastures

Of the gods.
16

Then they walked together to the cow barn in the moonlight and poured a leather bucket of blood over the brownie stone, where offerings of first milk were usually made as a special gift for the land spirits.

Some of the other Druid carried the entrails deep into the forest and made an offering to the foxes, ravens, and crows, asking that they not despoil our fields.

In the morning Niamh carried a living coal from the Fire Temple to my hearth to start a new flame. Artrach and I walked alone three times sunwise around the hearth of the Fire Temple to bid it a formal farewell since it would no longer be our home. Then we and the assembled guests went outside and circled around the Fire Altar. Using a branch of oak, the presiding priestess sprinkled us with sky water from the blue ceramic bowl that was always present near the flames.

The ancestors and deities were invoked, and Dálach-gaes handed butter to Artrach three times, which he then passed to me three times. I made three offerings of butter to the Fire Altar in the name of the three worlds and then poured a cup of mid from a silver beaker into a small silver cup.

I handed the cup to Artrach and he accepted it, showing to all his willingness to marry me. He took a swallow then handed the cup back to me, and I drank the rest. Then Artrach and I walked together, hand in hand, around the fire three times.

At the last, Artrach was finally able to slip a ring of pure gold upon my finger.

“It's an extra blessing to be getting a wife of proven fertility!” he laughingly said to the assembled Druid as he placed the ring on my hand and then kissed me full on the mouth.

When the formal ceremony was done, everyone trooped down the hill to our new home and the already bright hearth where Niamh was waiting. Before any of us could enter the house, she stood in the doorway and intoned the ancient fire blessing:

I lit the flames as Brighid would

The flames under her cauldron

I lit the flames as Brighid would

The flames of her forge

I lit the flames as Brighid would

The reddest coals of wisdom

May she preserve this house

From foundation to roof tree