In a land far
from this land in a time far from this time there was a great gathering of all
the people of the land to celebrate the Festival of Beltane.
The clans and
families and tribes all met together. In
their midst were many great Bards, honeyed of voice and true of song; many
powerful Ovates, skilled of hand and sure of vision; and many learn’d Druids, wise of thought and just of deed. It was they who led the
revels and rites and rituals that would celebrate the Festival of Beltane,
light the Fortunate Fires and open the Gateway of Summer.
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uncredited on www.andybaggott.com |
Each year the
men and the women of the tribes gathered with each other to call forth the
Spirits of the Land and the Season.
Games were played, contests fought and mysteries sought to determine who
would be crowned the Queen of the May and the Lord of the Hunt.
Each year they
separated. Menfolk with men and womenfolk with women, they set about their
sacred tasks. There was great merriment
and passion and lust when the menfolk and the womenfolk were reunited to crown
the fertile Queen of the May with a garland of white hawthorn blossoms and the
potent horn’d Lord of the Hunt with a pair of stag antlers.
When the champion of the menfolk was crowned, he embodied the Spirit of the
Lord of the Hunt, just as the champion of the womenfolk embodied the Spirit of
the Queen of the May.
Each year there
was a group of folk who were apart from the rest. They had a desire for
different games, a heart for different contests and a spirit turned towards
different mysteries. The contests of the others did not bring them the same joys
or the same thrills, so they could only take part for the sake of belonging,
knowing they did not, or stand disconsolate to one side and wish for the same
merriment and passion and lust the others felt.
Then one year
everything changed. The stars and
planets were arrayed in new alignments; the ancestors dreamt new dreams in
their barrows; and the Old Gods of the hollow hills sang new songs to the Land
and the Season. The stars and the dreams and the songs lit a new spark in the
souls of the druids and ovates and bards of those folk who had not the same
passions as the others.
“We must seek out our Spirit of Beltane,” they said. A
fellowship of those folk, with wise ones, seers and singers amongst them, gathered upon a mist shrouded dawn and set
off, following an old straight trackway across the land.
The journey was
long and hard and the seekers travelled all day and rested by night, the bards
singing songs of their ancestors around the hearthfire. So they continued their quest and by noon on
the third day they had travelled far and reached a place they knew to be the
oldest of woods, within which lay an ancient grove of trees sacred to the
Goddess of the Land. At the heart of that grove stood a hawthorn, with bright
green leaves and countless pale white blossoms. The seekers approached the
hawthorn.
“Are you the Spirit of Beltane we seek?” They asked.
The hawthorn
answered “Not I, not I.” They knew they must travel on.
The journey was
long and hard and the seekers travelled all day and rested by night, the seers
interpreting signs and portents around the hearthfire. So they continued their quest and by dusk on
the third day they had travelled far and reached a place they knew to be the
oldest of valleys, within which lay an ancient glen sacred to the Horned God.
At the heart of that glen stood a stag, with great wide antlers and countless
mossy tines. The seekers approached the stag.
“Are you the Spirit of Beltane we seek?” They asked.
The stag
answered “Not I, not I.” They knew they must travel on.
The journey was
long and hard and the seekers travelled all day and rested by night, the wise
ones telling the tales of the old gods around the hearthfire. So they continued their quest and by
nightfall on the third day they had travelled far, the old straight trackway
had thinned and vanished but they journeyed on into the night, turning their
hearts towards the bright full moon and striking out along a shining new
starlit path.
By midnight they
had reached a place they knew to be unexplored by the clans and families and tribes.
They saw it was a rolling land of meadows, within which they found a labyrinth,
sacred to the Moon, spiralling through the grass. At the heart of the labyrinth
stood a hare, with bright eyes and a pair of lustrous ears.
“Are you the Spirit of Beltane we seek?” They asked.
The hare
answered, “I am, I am.” They knew that they had found what
they had quested for.
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Moonlight Hares by Vikki Yeates http://vikkki.deviantart.com |
In the heart of
the Labyrinth of the Hare of Beltane, the fellowship made revelry that gladdened
their hearts. The games were played, the contests fought and the mysteries
sought to determine who would be crowned champion and embody the Spirit of
Beltane. They felt great joy when the
champion was found and crowned with a pair of proud furr’d
ears.
“Am I to have a consort?”
asked the newly crowned
Spirit of Beltane. “Only if you wish it to be so,”
answered the Hare.
“I wish it to
be so,” said the Spirit of Beltane. So, the Hare
brought forth three fellow seekers.
The Spirit of Beltane approached the first.
“You cannot be
my Consort,” said the Spirit of Beltane to the
First. “There are no games we can play
together.”
The Spirit of Beltane approached the second.
“I cannot be
your Consort,” said the Second to the Spirit of
Beltane. “There are no contests for us to
fight together.”
The Spirit of Beltane approached the third and final potential Consort.
“You can be my
Consort,” said the Spirit of Beltane to the
Third. “But only if you wish it to be so.”
“I shall be
your Consort,” said the Third. “There are mysteries we can seek out together.”
And so the Spirit of Beltane, the Consort and the rest of the weary but
elated fellowship travelled back to the gathering, arriving back at the time
between the setting of the moon and the rising of the sun.
There were great shouts of joy from the clans and families and tribes
when the fellowship returned to the great gathering. The seekers were reunited with those they had
left behind and to them told their tales of the quest to bring forth their own Spirit
of Beltane. Although they had journeyed
for three times three days and nights, they had returned in time for the
Festival of Beltane.
Together, the
Queen of the May, the Lord of the Hunt and the Spirit of Beltane led the
Festival, blessed the Fortunate Fires and opened the Gateway of Summer.
And so the Wheel of the Year turned, the stars danced merrily in the
skies, the ancestors dreamed sweetly in their barrows and the Old Gods sang
joyfully in the hollow hills.
This story was published in Touchstone, the Journal of The Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids Issue 208 and a recording of me storytelling features on Druidcast Episode 84.