BLACK of MOON - Three

ARCANE

Through the building, I tailed Pog, as he wended his way through torch-lit stone halls. After many minutes of twists and turns, he ducked through a low stone archway. It led to a cliff side shelf, overlooking dense forest and hills. Two stairways went up and down the mountainside we stood upon.

Many torches flickered in the night, illuminating the pathways. Every step Pog took, his leather armer creaked a bit, adding to the odd sounds coming from the Kaeldish mountains. We climbed one stairway which then broke into several smaller trails. He took a path that led downward, into a tree-shrouded narrow lane lined with jagged stone walls. Shells set into brackets in the wall held oil and a lit wick. Golden light dappled the pathway, and every step I took toward the end made my heart beat faster. What would happen to me? What if all told to me were lies to keep me calm before being sacrificed to whatever Gods they celebrate.

My guide turned around and walked backwards down the well-trodden path and asked me, “Do you remember what I told you about the Crone?”

“Yes, look her in the eye and don’t cower.”

He nodded. “When we reach the pond, get on your knees and bow your head. When she says to look up, do so.”

With my heart thundering in my chest, I nodded.

The sounds of drums filtered through the trees while the sweet smell of burning oil made me feel light headed.

“Sounds like a funeral rite is taking place. You hear the drums?”

I nodded.

“Those represent the sound of horses running into battle. You, uh, might see some, uh, things. But you shall see the fate of a Tribute to the Mother, and why such a path may not be of your liking. But then again, some want it more than being a wife.”

After a few minutes, Pog came to a halt. He knelt and I followed, kneeling close to his side, enough that he could turn his head and whisper, explaining the scene before me. An open grove with a high stone bench, a naked man laid upon the rock. Before the rock, a black water pool reflected both stars and torchlight. Holding a wooden stave as long as my leg, a withered woman waved it and chanted. Behind her, another stone wall with shelves built into it held various jars, tended by a youthful woman. On either side of the old woman, stood a young man and two women. One woman wore a heavy embroidered tunic and flowered crown, while the other wore a sheer shift and half-cape of iridescent feathers. At the foot of the stone bench with the man, stood a group of warriors in leathers.

“The chieftain lays upon the alter. The Crone is praying for his spirit to reach the stars and join his ancestors. Those are his body guards and best warriors. Now, the priestess is getting the potion for Eternal Life for the Tribute to the Mother.”

The woman on the left selected one of the jars and offered it to the Crone. Snatching it out of the priestess’ hand, the Crone lifted it high and spoke loudly to the woman on the right.

“Do you accept your duty as a Tribute?”

Without hesitation, the woman replied, “I do. But I cannot carry this duty alone.”

The Crone placed her free hand upon the crown of the Tribute. “You will never be alone. For the warriors before you will give you their seed so you may carry it to the Otherside, and give Jenivif Tezo the warriors he will need. You will carry not one life, but many. You and your children will be counted among the stars, and you will never be forgotten, as Jenivif Tezo will never be forgotten.”

The warriors all repeated, “Never forgotten!”

Pog whispered, “Jenivif Tezo was a heroic chieftain. Held off many attacks from the Renmigian and defended the Mother Mountain.”

The Crone held the uncorked jar to the Tribute’s lips. “With this, you will see through the veil to the Otherside, so you can guide Jenivif Tezo to his ancestors. Do you drink freely?”

In reply, the Tribute used her hand to tip the contents into her mouth and greedily swallowed all but the glowing blue that lingered upon her lips. “I drink freely and deeply. I welcome the fate the Mother has given me. I welcome the warriors and I welcome the Otherside.”

“It is done! For the Tribute to the stars has of her own free will given herself to the Otherside. Hail Kallon! Hail Kallon! Hail Kallon! Hail the Passing, the Tribute, the Guide to the Otherside. Hail Kallon, the Brave and Beautiful, Hail Kallon the Gentle and Assured. Hail Kallon!”

The surrounding warriors took up the cry, “Hail Kallon!”

I gasped. “Kallon?” My sister? The flickering torchlight made it hard to decipher the lines of her face or color of her eyes. My sister had dark blond hair, and while the tribute had hair lighter than my own nut brown, I couldn’t be certain at this distance of the color. Shock poured through my bones. This isn’t my Kallon, this isn’t my sister, this isn’t my fate.

“Shhhh,” Pog chided me. “Interrupt the ceremony, you will join the Tribute.” He clasped my wrist. He must have sensed I wanted to run into the clearing and find out if the Guide to the Otherside was in fact my sister, but the truth was I am no match for as many warriors as I had fingers on my hands, nor did I want to sacrifice myself for something that could be not true.

Kallon began to sway to the beat of the drum and the group of warriors surrounded her, their hands stroking over her skin bared by the embroidered tunic she wore. One of the warriors bent down to kiss her behind her ear, and in return, she seemed frenzied to get naked. Her hands pulled at the laces holding the tunic shut while the two men near the Crone lifted the chieftain’s body from the alter and took it elsewhere.

The warriors lifted the tribute to the alter, each taking a turn kissing her lips. All those hands caressed her breasts and soon, those warriors each found themselves freed of pants, her legs wrapped around their middle. Each took a turn to thrust between her legs was echoed with her cries of delight.

When the last warrior gave Kallon his seed with a grunt, the Crone proclaimed, “It is done. Kallon, are you ready to be the Guide?”

The Tribute gingerly sat up, and replied, “I am.”

“Stand upon the stone and tell me what you see.” The crone pointed at the black water pool. As the Tribute arose, the priestess held out a large, flat sea shell mounded with powder that glistened with starlight. The crone poured the powder into the murky depths, and the pond responded by swirling its waters.

Kallon replied in a voice filled with awe, “I see the Gate to the Otherside. Inside the gate, feasting awaits! The Gods are lifting a mighty drinking horn high, and telling me to bring Jenivif Tezo to their side, for they wish to feast with him. I must do what is bid, I must bring him to them! Help me do so!” Her eyes wide open in amazement or terror, I wasn’t sure which.

“It shall be as you ask, for we dare not deny the Gods their will. Sit, Kallon, and know your journey starts soon.”

A feeling of dread washed over me, and didn’t abate when the Tribute sat, and as soon as she settled herself upon the alter stone, one of the priests held a small loop of leather while the other held a club of gnarled burl wood. Kallon was clubbed on the head while the other priest quickly tightened the garrote around her throat. The Crone used a knife handed to her by the priestess in attendance and with a sure hand, cut the bulging vein in Kallon’s neck. A huge spray of blood arched over all the warriors. When the flow slowed, the Crone began to collect the blood in a cup, chanting in a singsong voice, while behind the stone wall, a huge fire lit the night sky.

We are born of blood for we are the blot;
We are born to die when our time comes

We cannot escape the blot;
For in our bones it hides,
And in our blood it bides,
And in our heart it rides,

Until one day when the Gods call us forth
And we shall obey
For the blot is their gift
We dare not refuse

Hail Kallon, who could have been a wife
Yet the Gods wanted her for a grander life
She met her fate with a warrior’s calm
Priestess of Heldheem
Guide to the Otherside
Mother to the Unborn Stars

Her voice faded out, and Pog spoke quietly, “That is a pyre for Jenivif Tezo. The Tribute Kallon will join him, and her blood sprinkled upon the fire to guide the flames and ashes past the sky, to the Otherside.

Stunned by what I observed, I weakly replied, “Hail Kallon.”

Something in my voice caused him to turn and look at me. “She felt no pain, she went freely to her destiny, and she will never be forgotten. Can you be so sure that your death will entail the same qualities?”

“My sister Kallon was taken three years ago by your hunters. If that was my sister who just… sacrificed herself in a pagan rite, then, I’m not sure how I feel about this society of yours.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Doesn’t matter how you feel about it. This is your reality, your destiny. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

I had no retort for his logic. Truth be told, Pog is right. I must obey the laws of this tribe, for my life depends upon their goodwill. My reality now involves human sacrifice.Took a deep breath and uttered, “I’m here because I was tracked with dogs.”

“If it makes you feel better about your situation, keep thinking that.”

Footsteps echoed on stone as the crone waddled her way to where Pog and I knelt. “What have we here?”

“A prize found high, as you foretold.” Pog spoke in hushed tones. “We apologize for intruding on a funeral.”

“You didn’t interfere with the workings of the Gods, have no fear. A prize found high? Arise. Both of you.” Her voice was both wispy and strong. Pog and I both stood up, and I found I towered over the withered old woman. She grasped my jaw with her claws and pulled my face down to stare into my eyes. I didn’t flinch. “Ahhh, you are fearless. But are you intelligent, girl? Do you know what lays ahead you?”

I swallowed the knot in my throat and responded. “I will be born anew in the Mother Mountain, either as a one to wive, or as a Tribute. Hail Kallon.” I didn’t care if it was good etiquette to praise the dead Tribute any time the topic came up.

The Crone echoed the sentiment. “Hail Kallon. The night of the ceremony, she sat upon the floor. Stayed there until morning light. She didn’t try to find a way out, she accepted that her fate meant serving the dead. She gave herself over to something greater, and from the morning of the rebirth to this evening, she was treated with respect due a respected priestess. She knew her duty. And of her own free will, she tended the sick and trained as a midwife. These were not forced upon her, for we respect a woman’s decision. Now, I ask you, what will your fate be? Will you accept that we all die, or do you accept to bear life?”

Both choices left an ashy taste in my mouth. We are born to live— and I wanted to get back to my family. Back to Gristam. “What if I accept neither?”

She gave a watery laugh with mirth swimming about. “For one hundred summers, there has been nary a maid that didn’t choose one of those two paths. What makes you different?”

“But there is a third path?” Priesthood without death? Train as a healer and tend the land and maybe make my way back home.. It could work. Would have to convince them.

“Oh, aye. But most who seek it find death instead. Fret not, girl. We have kind men seeking wives. None will abuse you, upon penalty of disfigurement. Men who would woo you and seek children. Or you can embrace warriors upon the death alter. The third path is not for the faint of heart, nor for the foolhardy. Seek it if you dare, none shall stop you. There are none alive who can tell you the secret to it, child. They died trying to figure it out for themselves.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Choose in your heart the path you wish to take and commit to it. That is the secret of life. Never forget it. Darkness will surround you, make determination your torch, and hold it high. Otherwise the darkness will eat your alive. Survive as you know how. Pogget, take her to the Maiden Tree. Let them know that the Rebirth ceremony will happen at the next full moon. We must prepare.”

With that, she turned with a flourish to tend the raging fire consuming the dead chieftain and his guide.

• Hail Kallon, whoever you once were.*