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August 23, 1999

The Hatchling—1997

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XIX—Ribbons From Her Horn

All was quiet in the cabin. Holly was in the temple with Dark Star, working with his orb. Since last Hallows when he discovered that he could 'hear' her speak while gazing in the crystal sphere, he had been working to develop his skill during his quiet times. Holly experimented with different techniques, holding the orb to his ear, to the center of his forehead, even placing it against Dark Star's forelock. The hatchling thought that was funny and whinnied almost like laughter.

Arnica was quietly working at his desk, planning this year's herbal crop which he hoped would be mature in time for the market later this summer. Dark Star had developed quite a taste for borage. Whether it was the beautiful, blue pentagram-shaped flowers or simply the magickal property which brought courage, all Arnica knew is that he'd better add at least two new beds simply for the hatchling's favorite herb!

It was so quiet in the cabin. The only sound in the little office was the sound of the pen scratching upon the paper. Holly was quietly 'listening,' exploring Dark Star's thoughts. Holly was perplexed. He scrunched up his blue eyes and looked at the unifoal with big questions in his mind. Why was he seeing a storm cloud? He opened his mouth to ask the hatchling why he was picking up this odd image when the peacefulness of the cabin was shattered by a frantic knocking at the door. The sound pierced the late night.

"Who could this be at such a late hour?" asked Arnica, all but running to the door. Turning the latch and pulling it quickly open, he saw a distressed-looking Pastor Dolorum. "My good man, what can be wrong?"

Dolorum, his dark face pale and his body speaking of anxiety, quickly stepped into the cabin. Holly and Arnica had not seen him look so stricken since the death of his mother. In fact, since Dolorum had begun exploring the practices of his Descendant Tribe ancestry (and even attended ritual!), he had never looked so at peace with himself.

Dolorum was trembling and his face ashen as he spoke. "It's the new bishop. I tried reasoning him but he looked at me so intensely that I was fearful he would know that I walk in both worlds. He…he…" And his voice broke off.

Holly stepped up to the man and embraced him. "My friend, calm down and feel this warm hug. It's safe here in our cabin."

Dolorum calmed considerably and his breathing slowed. "They've banned all Maypoles. It's now a felony offense to have one on public or on private land anyplace within the districts of Merrydale and Merrywood."

"But why? Why would they do that?" asked Arnica.

"The bishop appointed two more Elders to the council at Church of the Martyr, both of them staunch members of the Politicos and supporters of the Users. They've been alarming the other Elders with insidious comments about the pagan origins of some of the Kristos customs which we've used for so long no one can remember. May I sit?" The three men sat down around the small kitchen table and Pastor Dolorum continued. "Not all of the Politicos reacted. A couple of them even tried to defend these customs as highly desirable but the new Elders questioned their faith…and you know in these times that such a public accusation has no defense other than submission. So I tried meeting with the bishop in private. I questioned whether it was reasonable to impose the Kristos beliefs upon the Earthkin peoples in our districts. His face grew red and he jumped to his feet. Staring me right in the eye he said, 'and I've been wondering about your faith, Dolorum. Seems to me you might not be a good representative of our faith.' And I mumbled something about asking permission to rethink my position and quietly left."

"No Maypoles? No Maypole in Merrydale?" Holly was shocked. "Why there's been one every year for the children.:

"But even ours would be illegal," Arnica thought out loud.

"But no one would have to know," offered Holly.

"It's too risky," said Dolorum. "Why, this Eostara was only my first Sabbat. I know it was good. For the first time I felt the thread of connection that my mother learned from her mother and her mother's mother. I know that I can continue as the priest for the Church of the Martyr, that I can bridge both worlds and that no one has to know. But the new appointees to the council were talking about the bishop beginning to use informers and spies. He would just love to find out that I have become part of your Circle. We don't know who they are, but if they found out that you had a Maypole here that information could be used to ruin your herb business. You know how they are."

"Yes, I do…" Arnica was quiet. They all felt silent. Holly and Dolorum could tell that the old herbalist was thinking. Just then, Dark Star trotted into the room with a garland of flowers around her horn.…"Dear man, are we 'allowed' to gather with friends for a picnic which just happens to be the last day of April?"

"I don't see why not," answered Dolorum.

"I'm very sorry to say it, but it might be safer for you if you do not attend our Beltane Eve celebration. Be with us in spirit…Would you get for me some lengths of ribbon?"

"Why, of course," Dolorum answered. "How long do you want them?"

"Oh, maybe three to four feet long."

"Should they be any special color?"

"Whatever you want. And, is there by chance a length of ribbon which might have belonged to Mildora?"

"Why, there must be. I still have my mother's sewing things and she used ribbon. But why?" asked the Kristos minister.

"If we can't have a Maypole, then I will transform us into Maypoles," Arnica answered. Holly laughed out loud. "Certainly there can be nothing wrong with someone wearing a garland about their neck. Look at the Hatchling—she brought me a clue." Oh, she looked so proud as the three men turned their gaze to Dark Star and to the ringlet of dried flowers.

Holly got excited. "I can see it! We'll attach the ribbons to the garlands and then we can each 'be' a Maypole and dance freely. But why do you want a ribbon from Mildora?"

"Beltane may be a celebration of fertility, of the union of the Earth Mother and Sun Father, but it is also directly across the Wheel of the Year from Hallows, which observes death."

"I understand," said Dolorum. "I feel much better. You are correct, I must be very careful. Some days it is very tempting to abandon my work at the Church of the Martyr but I believe I can reach more people and help keep their minds from closing. And I do believe in the goodness found in the teachings of the Krista. It's just that I don't think it's the only way and I believe that the Kristos Conserver Party folk need my help. The two seats they gained in Parliament could easily be lost if there was a scandal…or if I was replaced by a priest who supported the Users. I'll send the ribbon and a letter to you through Iris. It's the safest route. Everyone loves the postmarm and she has good reason to be in contact with everyone in the district. I'd best head home, now, because it's very late." Dolorum rose to his feet.

The three men all moved to the kitchen door and embraced. As the three stood there, breathing in unison as they visualized a healthy, growing tree, they were interrupted by the nudging of the hatchling's horn and the room was filled with laughter. Dolorum went back into the dark night with his cares eased and his heart lightened with song.

"Guess, guess, guess what I brought along?" Amethyst was so excited, she was just like one of the children she taught at the Merrydale school. "It's bells, bells, bells. They're so cute. We can stitch one to the end of each ribbon. There's a whole bag just filled with little bells. I can't stand it," she laughed, "this is so much fun. I feel like a little girl." And she went dancing off to the garden circle, her long dark-brown hair itself braided with ribbons and bells.

"Can you believe it?" said Crystal. "She's been like this all day long ever since she found all these bells at a yard sale. She's been giddy…and it's wonderful." Crystal was sitting upon the mown grass, sewing ribbons onto her neck garland. A straw hat, the same color as her short hair, shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun.

"Who sent that ribbon?" asked Gino. And before Crystal could say a word, the freckled boy's enthusiasm spilled right over. "Look at this one," he said, holding up a narrow ribbon of brown velvet, "it's from my father. He sent it express and said he went to the best store in Mill City. Oh, I'm sorry…" Gino's head bowed.

Crystal laughed. "It's from Amber. It was made from hand-woven fabric. She asked two ladies of the Loon Tribe to weave a narrow strip, just for me. Isn't it beautiful?"

They sat about the yard, laughing and sharing stories about their ribbons and sewing them onto the rings of lace and cord and flowers which would fit about their necks. The growing difficulties in the local councils brought them all together. The topic was divisive in Merrywood and sure to be addressed in Parliament, but for now, they were happy to be preparing for Beltane and realized they didn't need a Maypole to celebrate, after all.

Jewel and Lotus loved the idea. Arnica's plan was for each to wear a garland from which hung ribbons gathered from friends and loved ones. After the Circle was prepared, they would dance around the garden circle and along the paths between the herb beds. This was something that the toddler Dagon could try. Since his time in the Realm of the Faerie when just a couple of months old, they'd waited to see him in his first ritual and this was perfect. No prouder parents could be found anywhere. Their ribbons included many which Lotus gathered from the folk for whom he'd carved ritual items. He was well-known for his ability to work with wood.

Iris and Pearl were sitting over near the hawthorne, sewing and quietly talking. Iris' involvement in their circle had really begun while Pearl was away at Cloverville and they discovered how much they enjoyed each others' company. Iris was known for her wit and earthy humor and it helped Pearl heal from Phoenix' death. Pearl was sewing a long teal-blue ribbon sent to her by her grandmother, Lady Ellhorn, as Iris fell back and lay on the grass, laughing aloud as Pearl talked about the way in which some of the older Kristos women referred to her as a widow. The very connotation of that phrase put sparks in Pearl's eyes!

Arnica and Holly sat over near the greenhouse. The gardens were filled with bloom and the yard was full of laughter. Why, this might be one of the best Beltanes they'd ever had. Dark Star danced about, running the path back to the stone circle, then prancing among the friends. How excited she was. After the ritual dancing tonight, the circlets would be placed upon her horn and she'd be sent off on a mission: with ribbons streaming from her horn she'd run through the night to a select list of houses to hang one of the magickal wreaths from each person's door. Arnica added a pair of cobalt blue ribbons sent to him from the Highlands by Wren and Robin. Why, Wren's music could be felt almost vibrating in the satin! On the other side of the same circlet Holly was sewing a jade green ribbon from the Rhymer. As they others laughed and joked and had fun, they worked quietly, sewing magick into these ribbons. This wreath was for Dark Star to hang upon Pastor Dolorum's own door!

XX—A Warning From the Faerie

It was a quiet, late-spring evening. The sky was so clear that one could peer deep into the Universe. The gardens were covered with a cool dew as the night air condensed. Holly sat in the rocking chair with a log gently burning in the fireplace to keep away the damp inside their cabin. Rubbing "Holly Oil" into his staff, the scent of this special oil permeated the front temple. 'Holly Oil' was the source of jokes between the two men. Arnica had made the oil in stages, gathering the hyacinths at Eostara, the hyssop blooms at Midsummer and the hollyhocks at Lammas. And yes, there were some holly flowers in the oil as well. All the herbs began with the letter 'H' for Holly!

As he sat and worked the oil into the long staff with his fingers, Dark Star, their Unicorn hatchling now two years and almost two Sabbats old, lay with her head across his right foot. The cabin was so very quiet. Arnica was in the kitchen making a tincture of Digitalis purpurea to send to Lady Ellhorn, grandmother of their friend Pearl. The Lady lived far to the south in Cloverville, a seven day journey by carriage but Iris, the postmarm in Merrydale, could get a parcel sent express reaching Lady Ellhorn while the tincture was still fresh.

Arnica was gently stirring a beaker of flowers and chopped root, his eyes focused upon the candle-lit photograph of Lady Ellhorn lent him by Pearl. His voice, barely a whisper, chanted the words to a healing ritual as he balanced the tincture to the natural powers of the Universe. There was no sound in the front temple other than the quiet, rhythmic sigh of the floorboards as Holly rocked, his mind beyond words as he was both working the oil into the staff from the outside but had placed his awareness within the staff, experiencing the warmth of his fingers as if he, himself, was the sacred wood. And the hatchling? Well, if you listened close, you could just barely hear her snoring, she was so at peace with the world.

Just then there was a light 'tap-tap-tap' at the door. Not disturbing, yet clear enough that Holly began readjusting his mind as he heard Arnica's voice fall silent as his partner's footsteps walked across to the kitchen door.

Arnica opened the door and there stood Wren, wearing a long, green Novice Bard's cape, carrying her lute case in one hand and a travelling bag in the other. "I'm here for Midsummer," she said simply. "The Rhymer told me I was needed here."

"Ah, come in," said Arnica, caught a bit by surprise. "I knew something was likely to happen, but I didn't know we'd be so fortunate to have you here. What a blessing. Where's Robin?"

"Robin's still in Highland. She's all caught up working on a special project for her former employer. When the Rhymer told me I must open the portal to the Realm of Faerie this Midsummer, I asked her if she couldn't take a break to come here with me but she has so much work to do and this also guarantees that our gardens will be watered while I am here. I brought my lute," she said, holding up the case, "but I guess you can see that. Did you know that Echo is to be here as well?"

"Echo?" Arnica was pleasantly surprised. "No, I didn't expect this at all. We had planned a quiet Midsummer, working our ritual back in the stone Circle. Recent political activity has given strength to the Politicos, you know."

"Ah, it's been the same back in Highland, as well. The Kristos have spearheaded a drive to force the Politicos to pass a law making the only legal union one conducted in a Kristos church between a man and a woman. I don't think it stands much of a chance, but their very audacity is alarming." Her luggage set down, the door shut, Wren removed her cape and she and Arnica wrapped their arms around each other and held a warm embrace.

"Wren!" exclaimed Holly. "How fun! You'll be here for Midsummer's Eve?"

"Oh, yes," Wren's gentle voice warmed the room. "In fact, that's the nature of my visit."

They talked late into the night, even though Arnica had to rise before the sun, a mighty early hour this time of year. Wren explained to them that the Rhymer was journeying into the Eldritch and visiting the astral Gardens of Lothloriën when something alarming happened. Out of the mists stepped some of the faerie with a very clear message. "A Bard must be waiting at the hour on Midsummer's Eve. A message awaits." And that was it.

The Rhymer gave serious thought to making the journey to Holly and Arnica's stone circle himself. He knew that it would be best if a Renaissance Tribe elder entered the Realm of the Faerie. But the journey from Loriën was long and difficult and the Rhymer travelled only with great difficulty. He called Wren and told her that she was ready, that this was her journey to take. Wren, having played the Rhymer's harp only last year at Lammas, was now ready for her first walk into the astral as a Bard. The Rhymer knew that Arnica's training as a Renaissance elder would provide her with all of the additional support she needed for this perilous quest.

As a crescent moon lit the woodlands and gardens with a soft glow, all turned in for the night. Although Arnica's sleep would be but a few hours, the energy permeating their cabin was intense. All three knew that there would be little sleep until the Midsummer's journey was complete. All but Dark Star. She was already sound asleep in the front temple. Wren laid out her travelling bed next to the hatchling and soon the entire cabin was sharing the same dream…

"You all know that the portal to the Realm of the Faerie is open this night," Arnica was speaking to their circle of friends. Heads nodded, but Jewel and Lotus knew only too well that the portal would be open. The memory of their baby Dagon, only one year old, being carried into that Realm upon the Hatchling's back still woke Jewel. It was difficult for her to learn to let Dagon out of her sight and it took her some time to calm herself for a rare night such as this when Dagon would be left in someone else's care.

"Dear Sirs," asked Gino, "do we have anything to fear?"

"Not a bit," chuckled Holly.

"It's just that this is serious business. We have been asked to bring back an important message and there are, for she who must pass through the portal, certain risks. Once touched by faerie, one is never quite the same. The Rhymer, you know, is a bit other-worldly."

"And Dagon," Lotus interjected, "his eyes bespeak a level of wisdom beyond his years." Known for his woodcarving skills, Lotus was nonetheless a proud father. "Already he's begun to speak and I know that he thinks about things almost like an elder."

"Friends," Arnica tried to bring focus back to the temple, "please let me bring us back to the ritual we are about to begin. Once the Circle is cast in the garden Circle, I will take Wren by the hand and guide her back to the stone circle."

Holly let out a quiet gasp. Why, he and Arnica were never separated during ritual. Together they worked the polarities and kept the energies in balance.

"I will be carrying my staff, the one Lotus made for me some years back, with the large fluorite set in the top. You will all continue working the Circle except for Holly, who will take the very center and remain there, moving into a trance and working to create a link between the ritual's energy and my staff. And I will make that energy available to Wren. When all is done with the Circle, keep the energy flowing through Holly. Keep it strong until we return." The room fell silent as they suddenly realized the import of this Midsummer's Eve.

Arnica stood at the northeast portal, Wren and her lute just behind him. Holly was at the Circle's center holding his freshly oiled staff. Dark Star was sitting back, her horn constantly pointed to the top of Holly's staff. For a hatchling, she had become skilled in taking her part as a unicorn in the ritual world of humans. Pearl and Gino stood at the East in beautiful hand-stitched robes. Lotus and Jewel were kneeling in the south, tending the fire in the cauldron. Iris was at the west, gently pouring water into the basin, the sound dancing through the circle in a gentle music in counterpoint to the crackle of the fire. Dolorum knelt in the north. A Kristos' minister here in secret, he felt comfortable kneeling when giving honor to the Earth. Helping him with the element of earth was Echo, an infrequent guest. She was much-loved for her slightly bawdy songs and hearty laughter, but this night she was still and focused.

They walked slowly, Arnica and his staff leading the way. Wren strummed her lute as she walked. Words from the ritual followed them as they moved through the trees. "Oh thou Circle, be thou a meeting place of love and joy and truth…"

At the entrance to the stone circle, Arnica stood aside as Wren stepped to the center of the circle and sat, moving into a Bardic trance, letting the magick of the trees bring the music through her fingers. More than an hour passed. Arnica could feel the pulsing of the energy coming through the giant, arching firs and directed it from the fluorite to Wren's seated figure. Her body moved with animation as if she was carrying on a conversation with an unseen presence. Arnica remained just outside the Circle. This was not his to see on this magickal Eve. And then she stood, her eyes shining bright, reflecting the visions she had witnessed.

"They have spoken." Wren sat with her back to the altar. The eight friends sat upon the grass so that they completed a Circle with her. Dark Star lay in the center, her nose nuzzling at Wren's hand. With one hand Wren felt the Uni-kisses helping her return to the manifest world and with her other hand she caressed Dark Star's forelock.

"Their kindred are threatened and they need help. Vast numbers of the faerie are dying. The safe, dark places of the world are being destroyed. Thousands of their sisters in the rain forest have lost their homes. Now, a highway carries heavy trucks and noise and pollution. The elders among the trees in the River Mountains are losing their homes to poisons which come with the rains." Dark Star looked at Wren, a tear running down her cheek.

"Yes, even the unicorns will be in danger if we cannot turn the tide."

"But what can we do? We are so few and those in power do not listen to us." Dolorum was ever ready to quietly attempt to turn his congregation to doing good works although he was increasingly frustrated that he was unable to bring enough change. Of late he'd had to pull back from some of his activism, having attracted too much attention from some of the Politicos.

Wren was silent for a moment, then spoke. "The Faeries warn us that time runs out. It will not be gone in a human lifetime. Indeed, while time is perilous and short for them, in human years there is enough that too many can coast in their complacent attitudes. But we, those of the Earthkin, are being given direction. You, Iris…I am to tell you that your path is to become an Initiate of the Renaissance Tribe. Echo, you also. Madrona, Faerie Queen, said I must tell you that you have too long held yourself back but that you must become a Priestess. And I…" Wren's voice faltered and her eyes closed.

Dark Star shifted her four legs forward until her head was laying in Wren's lap. Her ears were up and attentive, waiting for the words. Suddenly Wren's voice came through strong and clear. "They brought me to meet my soul and they embraced my heart. I—I am now a Bard," and she began crying, the sheer intensity of the experience now bathing her in tears.

Wren slept very soundly that night.

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