The Stones

The cross-shaped standing stones of Callanish in the isles off the west coast of northern Britain have become the focal point of Saint Augustine’s mission to spread Christianity throughout Britain. Tradesmen, immigrants, and legionaries traveling from Rome had brought the religion to Britain by the late third century, but it never took root. Then Rome fell, their presence dissipated from the remote lands, but it was not gone. The mighty Roman empire crumbled under weak leadership and misguided ambition, but like the Phoenix from the ashes, another rose to take its place. As Rome fell the Christian church rose in power and standing until its influence had spread further than any emperor of Rome ever thought was possible. Instead of legions of warriors with swords forcing a tyrannical government’s will, it was stern yet kind monks who spread the word of God. An unarmed Monk was nothing to fear, the message he preached resonated with the people, except the ones that still held on to the old ways.

Morag sits at a flat stone tying herbs and flowers into a bundle for her offering to Cerridwen the moon goddess, the keeper of the cauldron of knowledge. Failing Harvest after another is a sign of the times, the old gods are upset and withhold their blessings because so many have turned to this Christian religion.

“Mother?”

“I’m busy.” She replies concentrating on her work.

“The monks want to use the stones to hold a ceremony,” he informs her.

Morag has been a mother to their small island since her own mother had gone, her guidance has helped them through storms of weather, famine, and invasion. The people, friends, and family want to set her aside as if she is not needed. She knows her role and regardless of whether the people see a need for her or not, she stands alone against the tides of invasion once more.

“Mother! Answer me.”

“I remember how you used to help with the offerings, you have seen the moon god come and dance among the stones. “

“What does that have to do with anything? I am a Christian,” He replies.

Before she can rise to admonish her son, the leader of his people, she sees the monks walking their way. An entourage of robed men adorned with the symbols of their trade, not so much different from the pagan priestess they are about to belittle.

“Why is this woman here, be gone with this pagan, we need the stones, they are a powerful symbol!” the lead Monk demands.

“This is my mother; she is a priestess.”

The monk’s monstrous eyes leave the son and land on his mother, she stands proud behind him, a basket of bundles of offerings for the moon god in her hand. He studies the woman carefully, she is not like the other women from the villages, with head hung low, eyes averted, she exudes strength and a righteous indignation that he wishes his fellow priest had.

“I am sorry priestess, but you will have to move we are going to have a ceremony here and we need you to move.” The monk demands of her.

“I am presenting an offering to Cerridwen so she will come to dance with me and the stones and bring blessings upon our harvest for our people.”

“Why have you not converted?” He asks, “You and your pagan gods will kneel at the feet of Jesus Christ the one true God.” He insists on not giving her time to respond.

She looks around at the crowd that has amassed and realizes he is putting on a show for the people, exerting his dominance over her using the perceived power of his god. Her son turns to see his mother smiling big, a look that could mean she is happy or that she is about to enjoy her next move, she always carries her emotions on her face.

“Did I say something humorous?” The monk asks.

“Yes, you did, may I ask when you plan to have this ceremony?”

“Tonight.”

The smile on her face gets even bigger and the power that she has builds inside of her ready to burst. Normally she is a solid stable woman, a knowledgeable priestess, but today her son witnessed her being giddy and excited. She has not been like this for some time, life is hard in the isles, especially for a woman. As the priest is about to speak, she raises her eyes to meet his and stops him cold. She turns and hops up upon the large flat rock and looks out on the assembled crowd. Most of the village has either come out to hear this monk preach at his ceremony or they have come to see a confrontation between the two spiritual leaders.

“You may have your ceremony tonight and defile this sacred place, but if you do on the morrow our goddess of the moon will come down and dance with these stones and cast a curse on all those that come and listen. I warn you not to attend, have your meeting anywhere else but on this sacred land, among these sacred stones!” she warns.

She steps forward and leaps off the rock into the crowd, dividing the masses like Moses and the Red Sea. As she walks away the priest turns and pays her no concern, he sets about preparing the area for the evening's service. While cleaning up sticks and discarded offerings and throwing them into the pile, the other priests notice that nearly half of the villagers that they had converted earlier are following behind her.

____

“Priestess, may I ask you a question?” a little fair-haired girl asks.

“Of course, my child, sit and ask me anything.”

The priestess sits down on a bench near the front of her small home, flowers, and herbs grow from every crevasse, pot, or bucket. Sitting on the bench in front of her modest home is like sitting within the wonders of nature, the air smells good, and colors of every sort paint your view.

“Will the god of the moon come and curse us?” she asks while a crowd gathers around.

“The god of the moon, Cerridwen will be here tomorrow night. She will dance with the stones whether they hold their ceremony or not.” She explains.

“Then why did you say that?” A question deep within the crowd is asked.

“I do not care if any of you want to be a Christian, that is for you to decide. My concern is for the gods who have watched over us since time began. “

She stands up so that all can hear what she has to say.

“Tomorrow night the moon will look low in the sky, this event happens every 18 days, sometimes you can see it sometimes you cannot. I have used this heavenly knowledge to hold an earthly authority over you. This event will happen just like the sun will rise in the morning. There is a great cosmic dance going on in the heavens above us and the tales we talk about them are our way to understand what is happening. I learned this long ago, however, I found out that if I watched and recorded what I witnessed then over time I could predict what would happen. Nature moves in a cycle, it has a pattern, but I only tell you this so you will not be scared. These monks use fear, fear of a god that is vengeful, and full of wrath. This is a way to control you, don’t give up your freedom and be subservient to another. Watch these monks over the next day and see how they react to the curse I put on them, see how brave they are when the moon lies low over the night sky.” she explains.

___

The night after the event the priestess is awakened by pounding on her door, when she manages to get there and open it for the eager visitor, she is shocked to see the entire village outside.

“Why are you here?’ she asks scratching her head.

“They are gone,” One man says.

“All of them,” says another.

“Who is gone?” she asks.

“The monks, they stayed up to see your prediction and when it came true, they immediately packed their things and left on a boat to the mainland.” A woman explains.

“I tried to warn them not to leave, but they insisted.” Said a large man towering over the others.

“Why didn’t you want them to leave?”

“The curse!” everyone in the crowd begins yelling.

She raised her hands and waited for the crowd to settle down and then she shook her head in disbelief. She was trying to explain to them over the past few days to believe in what you see and not in what someone tells you, but it seems she has failed.

“You must be a powerful priestess to control the storms.” The large man says.

“What did you say?” she asks.

“The storms, I didn’t want them to take the boat because of the storms you have called upon to curse them with,” he explains.

“I have done no such thing.”

The entire crowd turned to watch as the sky turned grey, and lightning streaked across the darkened horizon. Large waves began to splash up at the shore and the tiny boat could be seen rising and disappearing in the swells, soon they could not be seen at all.

“Why did you kill them, priestess?” The little girl asked pulling on her robe.

“The curse didn’t kill them ignorance did.”

She told everyone to go home and get ready if the storm came their way, but part of her wondered if she had put a curse on them. She warned them! They could have held their ceremony anywhere, but they had to have it at the stones! Putting faith in one thing and ignoring another is ignorance she tells herself lights a fire and goes back to bed.