Chapter 9
Rebirth
Tom clambered out of bed and went to the window opening. His mind was alert but his body felt awful. He'd read volumes about the virtues of ancient mead. It was described as the nectar of the gods.
The reality couldn't be further from the truth. The stuff was undrinkable. Bees piss would be a better description. It was what you made when you were in a hurry and didn't have access to sugar.
He peered at the fortified bank which surrounded the village and felt a surge of anger. He'd been hijacked, plied with alcohol and duped into thinking he'd arrived in the company of the sophisticated people who'd invited him into his new realm.
The invitation had been issued by the Duideth, an august body of learned men. They were the custodians of ancient knowledge. They weren't a horde of primitive barbarians who lopped off heads and sent a slip of a girl to humiliate you ... all in the space of a few hours.
He pulled on his jeans. The moon was low in the western sky and the red glow of dawn had appeared in the east. He fastened his shoes and gave thought to his situation. The Duideth revered the sun as a god. He'd arrived at the most auspicious time of the year. It was midsummer's day and the priests would be preparing for the dawn ceremony. There couldn't be a better time to arrive.
The girls of the guard said the sanctuary of the Duideth was close to where he and Alison had arrived in their new realm. It was beside a grassy mound that was surmounted by a standing stone.
Things were falling into place. Admittedly, there had been setbacks. In the confusion of passing from one realm to another, unavoidable mistakes had been made. He'd failed to recognise friend from foe. It was the inevitable outcome of culture shock. Tom didn't like the term. It was the sort of crap talked by the pricks in the behavioural sciences department at his university ... but sometimes the pricks got it right.
He finished dressing. No one was about but he sensed eyes watching him from guard posts and doorways as he left. A meadow stretched before him. Dawn was approaching. He reached the stream at the end of the meadow and found a path leading to the mound. The huge standing stone on top was silhouetted against the glow of dawn. He resolved to get there before sunrise.
A drumbeat came from the other side of the mound. Tom guessed the dawn ceremony had begun. He broke into a run, pounded up the path and reached the stone as the first rays of the rising sun streaked across the sky.
The land on the other side fell away in a gentle slope towards a small clearing. The grass was neatly trimmed. Trees and bushes were neatly cropped. Some were cut to imitate animals. The overall effect was one of order and precision, totally different from the mayhem of the village.
A hundred or so white-robed figures were gathered about an altar, chanting solemnly. Men with drums, horns and cymbals accompanied the singing. All eyes were turned towards the big stone.
Tom guessed that, on this special day, the sun rose directly above it. He wasn't worried that the priests held primitive views on religion. Experience had taught him that senior clergy rarely placed a literal interpretation on holy writ. That was for the common folk. Sophisticated minds knew it was the underlying truth that mattered.
A man wearing a shimmering gown came out of the trees. His bearing was one of authority. A golden torque graced his neck and he held a staff surmounted by a golden disc. He reached the altar and raised the staff as the sun rose and the stone cast a shadow towards the altar. Horns blared, cymbals clashed and drums beat out their greeting to the lord of all creation.
Tom got to his feet. His shadow stretched before him. It was his chance to make a spectacular entry. He walked slowly, keeping pace with the blood red disc as it climbed into the sky. In the clearing below, a gasp went up and the chanting became ragged. The clashing of cymbals ceased and the drumbeat died away.
Tom was elated. There could be no doubt that he was causing a minor sensation. He was undoubtedly expected and everyone was impressed by his dramatic arrival. He lengthened his stride and made for the altar and the august person standing there.
The elderly man raised his staff.
'Who walks in the face of the Lord?'
'I have come to join your esteemed company,' Tom replied.
'Who conspires with the servants of the great whore?'
Tom sensed an air of hostility.
'Foul creature of the dark!'
The staff with the golden disc thumped down. It bore the smiling face he had helped to destroy the night before. Tom wondered if that was the cause of the antagonism.
'Tomas son of John.'
The old man's eyes narrowed.
'You have transgressed the sacred pathways. You have defiled the Lord's most holy image. You have consorted with the whelp of the she bitch.' He shook with rage. 'What brings you to this sacred place?..What further abominations do you wish to commit?'
'There's been a misunderstanding.'
'Misunderstanding?'
'A breakdown in communications due to cultural differences.'
'Do not insult me with your vile lies and obscene inventions.' The old man's staff crashed down. 'Our eyes and ears are everywhere. We have followed your every move.'
The priest gestured towards two grey-clad figures that had emerged from the bushes. They wore body armour and looked more like professional soldiers than the flamboyantly dressed warriors Tom had met the night before. Some quick thinking was required. He decided on a different approach.
'Could we perhaps go somewhere to discuss this delicate matter?'
'What could you possibly have to discuss with me?'
'Eclipses,' Tom said.
'What?'
'In my realm we can predict when the Lord Sun's countenance will be masked by Lady Moon.' He examined the old man's face. 'We can reach an agreement. I'll tell you about eclipses. You'll tell me about the realms and how to travel between them.'
The priest's hands toyed with his staff. Tom kept one eye on him and the other on the armed men. Finally, the old man spoke. 'Come, Tomas. Let us retire to the sacred grove.'
They crossed an expanse of unnaturally green grass and entered a path overhung with bushes. The path was neatly paved. The bushes were neatly trimmed. Not a single leaf was out of place. Tom felt a sense of revulsion. There was something obsessive about the tidiness of the place.
But it was not just a matter of aesthetics. There were suspicious stains on tree stumps and rocks. Tom was reminded of places where rooks and crows took mice and beat them into tasty morsels. These were on a bigger scale. They looked like places where much larger things had met their end. The old man stopped beneath an oak tree and placed a hand on the gnarled trunk.
'You said you could foretell the moment of our Lord's shame?'
'In my realm we do it to the nearest heart beat.'
Tom placed a finger on his pulse to emphasise the point.
The old man scrutinised him.
'What devices will we need?'
'Not much. A few sticks and lots of sums. I'll tell you about them.'
A look of deep suspicion crossed the priest's face.
'Will you bring the cat?'
'The cat?'
'The feline creature which brought you here. Do not pretend otherwise. We have followed your every move. We know you are the abomination that crosses realms to spread the cult of the Great She Whore.'
It occurred to Tom that the Duideth were as mystified by his arrival as he was. He lost interest in the old man and turned his attention to the two soldiers who had accompanied them into the grove. The priest signalled with his staff and they moved in on him.
Tom decided that it was time to act.
'Stay where you are.'
He seized the old man by the neck.
'Don't move ... or he dies.'
The men in grey stared back like electronic toys robbed of instructions. More soldiers arrived. The priest seemed encouraged by their presence.
'Foul servant of the dark!'
Tom let him scream.
'Pitiful abomination of the Great She Whore!'
There was something repetitive about the old man's vocabulary. Tom recognised the dull rant of a dull mind. Four swordsmen now confronted him. His only asset was a priest and a staff with a golden disc. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing.
'Guards!'
The old man screamed and two of the soldiers sprang forward. Tom brought one down with the golden disk and used the butt of the staff to dispose of the other. Then, with the priest over his shoulder, to protect his rear, he plunged into the bushes and charged down a thickly-wooded slope.
The old man recited a curse. Tom scarcely heard it. His attention was on a welcome sound. He recognised it from his childhood. It was the sound people in red coats used to make when they hunted foxes. They blew on small conical horns like those carried by the charioteers in his new realm. The long meadow was at the bottom of the slope. He reached the stream that separated it from the sanctuary and waded across.
Chariots were practising manoeuvres, reeling backwards and forwards and executing tight turns. They came into line when he appeared and charged towards him. Tom recognised the warrior in the lead chariot and waved the staff with the golden disc.
'Hail, Griffin son of Dragon.'
The chariot halted a few paces away.
'Hail, Sky Warrior.'
Griffin returned the salute and the priest yelled at him.
'Foul Fiend! You who consorts with the Great She Whore. You who brought this monster into our midst. Your soul light shall not escape the consequences of your foul abominations.'
Tom saw the alarm on the Chariot Master's face.
'Shut up!'
He swung the priest round and stared him in the face.
'Shut up ... or I'll screw your stupid head off.'
He held the white-robed figure at arm's length and walked towards the stream. Men in grey watched from the other side and he tossed the priest towards them.
Griffin watched in awe.
Tom sauntered back.
'Who was that nasty little sod?'
'He's the Grand Master of the Duideth,' the Chariot Master replied. He is a priest from the south lands ... a custodian of great knowledge and power.'
'He didn't come over like that to me.'
Tom picked up the staff with the golden disc.
'Lots of words and not much else.'
He climbed into the chariot beside Griffin and brandished the staff above his head to the cheers of the charioteers.
***
They sped down the causeway into the village. Griffin held the reigns. Tom stood beside him. Warriors gathered in the market place and shouted his name. The queen appeared. He jumped down and ran towards her.
'Majesty.'
He held up the staff with the golden disk.
'This morning I paid a visit to the sanctuary of the Duideth. While there I came upon this unpleasant item. I thought it a shame that such a noble metal should be put to such ignoble use. So I seized it and I've brought it here. Perhaps it can be returned to the melting pot and fashioned into something of which the Holy Lady would approve.'
He held out the staff.
'I would be honoured if you would accept this token of my respect.'
The queen took the staff and handed it to one of her girls.
'Thank you, Sky Warrior. We shall find a good use for your noble gift.'
She moved closer and dropped her voice.
'There are matters we must discuss.'
***
Tom followed the old woman into the royal apartments. She dismissed her guard, sat down on a bench and set about removing her boots. A pained expression appeared on her wrinkled face as she struggled to undo the straps. Without thinking, Tom bent down to help her.
'Thank you, Sky Warrior.' She gave a deep sigh. 'My clan chieftains would have sat still, not daring to touch the royal foot.'
Tom undid the straps and eased off the boot.
'You are not like them,' she continued. 'You do not see me as a queen. To you I am an old woman whose soul light hangs limply to her aching frame. I think you would show the same respect to all women of my age.'
The remark came as a surprise and he didn't know how to take it. Then his mind was diverted to other things. Easing off the second boot, he was confronted by a disturbing revelation.
'The young woman who accompanied you here ...'
'Yes,' said Tom.
'She and my son have formed a relationship. Did you know she wears his talisman?'
'You mean the carving of a bear?'
'Fury sang her. I could hardly believe it. I thought his interests lay elsewhere. I sent him into the care of the Duideth. They wouldn't have told him anything about girls.'
Tom could scarcely believe his ears. 'You sent your son into the care of that bunch of twisted fanatics?'
'I did,' the old woman said. 'It is a time-honoured tradition amongst our people. Its purpose is to cement relationships with our neighbours and prevent conflict. For the same reason, I sent my daughter Adrina into the House of Gorm.'
Tom grinned.
'Eyes and ears in the enemy's camp?'
The old woman smiled back.
'It is a tradition which has many advantages.'
'Like getting young Fury to deliver me here instead of to the Duideth?'
'Sky Warrior.' The old woman's eyes settled on him. 'My poor weak son is an innocent child.'
'And you got him to bring me here?'
'No, Sky Warrior. That piece of deception was arranged by my other child.'
'You mean the Princess Adrina?'
'You carry her mark, Sky Warrior.'
'What?'
'On your neck ... during your little tryst.'
Tom's hand went to the spot where he had been attacked by Adrina's ferret. The old woman picked up a silver mirror and handed it to him. Its polished surface revealed a cabbage-shaped blotch below his right ear.
'It is one of the forty-nine signs of the Holy Mother,' the queen explained.
Tom returned the mirror to her. 'I'm not surprised the Duideth didn't like me ... I was set up.'
'They wouldn't have liked you anyway.' The old woman interrupted his thoughts. 'You're not their sort. You belong here. You're one of us.'
A sudden commotion caused him to look up. The girls guarding the door were demanding to know the business of someone outside. He heard Thunder's voice and watched him enter the room. The little man bowed and held out a bag.
'Majesty, the stones of destiny are here for your inspection.'
He emptied some pebbles from the bag and the queen leant forward to examine them. Tom watched as she rejected some and kept others.
'Her Majesty's very particular,' Thunder said. 'She won't let a single one through if it's got the slightest blemish.'
'What are they for?'
'The augury ceremony what's about to take place.'
'Oh,' said Tom.
'Yes,' said Thunder. 'They're what you use when you want to know which of your criminals is going to help you in your auguring.'
'How do you do that?'
'It's a straightforward procedure.' Thunder adopted his warrior pose. 'You assembles your criminals in one spot and you get each of the nasty little toads to place his hand in the bag and remove a stone. After which you get him to put his mark on the stone and put it in a fire you've lit specially for the purpose.'
He pointed towards the chariot enclosure.
'There's one of them fires burning over there now and, as I speak, twenty or so little turds are warming themselves beside it.'
He glanced at the queen, who had just rejected another pebble, then returned his attention to Tom.
'Now ... where was I?'
'You were going to tell me what happens after the stones of destiny have gone into the fire.'
'Quite right. Well, after a while the fire dies down and the criminals gather about it and try to see their stone in the glowing embers. Then, as each one finds his stone, he snatches it up and runs as far as he can as fast as he can.'
'How does that help with the auguring?'
'I was just coming to that.' Thunder cast a dark glance at Tom. 'Well ... not all the stones are rejected by the fire. Some are accepted and when that happens you know you've got a candidate. With the number of criminals we've got tonight you'd expect two or three.'
'You mean two or three who can't find their stones?'
'Correct. They can't find them and you take 'em, one by one, to the House of Ways ... that is just round the corner ... and you say to the priest that is there "I present the first of the candidates". Or the second or whatever.'
'Yes,' said Tom.
'Then you get the candidate to stand still while the priest goes round and sticks a sword in him. You step back as the candidate falls down and the priest watches how he twitches and so on as his life force flows out and his soul light enters the Void. After that the priest tells you the things you want to know ... like, will there be a good harvest or when are your enemies going to attack. It's very clever. They have to study for a long time and pass all sorts of tests before they're allowed to do it.'
'I'll take your word for it,' Tom said.
The queen finished her inspection and handed the leather bag to Thunder. She turned to Tom.
'Sky Warrior, when you completed your warrior training, did you take part in the ceremony of rebirth?'
Tom described the ceremonies he'd been through in the army and the Boy Scouts. None satisfied the old woman. 'I wish you to become a member of my household,' she said. 'Before that can happen, you'll have to go through the formalities of rebirth. A ceremony is taking place tonight.'
***
A full moon was in the sky when they left the village. Tom and Thunder followed a procession making its way through partly cleared land. Thunder said the ceremony of rebirth was being held for a group of young warriors who had just completed their training. Tom decided to make good use of his time and learn as much as he could about the art of war in his new realm.
'How long does the training take?'
'A cycle if we're not interrupted by the misdeeds of our neighbours,' Thunder replied. 'That bunch of marvels what is getting themselves reborn with you tonight started in the Moon of the Hungry Wolf. It's now the Moon of Falling Leaves.' He counted on his fingers. 'That makes thirty-two moons which is four short of what we should have. That is because the unprovoked aggression of our Gormish neighbours caused us to speed things up.'
'What have they done?'
'Done.'
Thunder feigned surprise.
'You don't wait for things to be done. You could be dead by the time that happens. It's not what's been done ... it's what's going to be done that matters.' He tapped the bag which had held the stones of destiny. 'That's why it's important to have a good Augury Master.'
'What about spies?' Tom asked.
Thunder pulled at his moustache.
'Yes ... there are persons who supply valuable information concerning the intentions of our enemies.'
'So. Why do you need an Augury Master?'
'The common people prefer a simple explanation.' Thunder dropped his voice. 'There's no need to trouble them with unnecessary details and put your sources of information at risk. You stick to the main facts.'
'Like whether the victim falls to the left or right when the sword is pushed into him?'
'That's right. But you need an Augury Master to say what it means. They speak in riddles so it's not too difficult to put a correct interpretation on anything they say.
Tom turned to another subject.
'What sort of things do the young warriors learn in their thirty-six moons of training?'
Thunder took a deep breath. 'How to pass though enemy territory unobserved. How to stalk and take game in the presence of an enemy. How to kill an enemy and remove his head. How to seize cattle ...'
He ticked off points on his fingers and reached his left thumb. 'Right. That brings us to the end of the first quarter which, you will note, is the time a baby spends in its mother's belly.' He took another deep breath. 'In the second quarter, special attention is paid to commands and messages. How to listen to and remember what is said, without getting it all stuffed up like some people we know. How to send and receive messages by smoke or flame ...'
The recitation continued. Tom noted that, in the fourth quarter, special attention was given to weapon craft.
'You didn't say anything about chariot craft,' he said.
'There wouldn't be no point,' the little man snapped. 'Chariots is not for your common warrior. Chariots is for those who's rich enough to own one. Instruction in that noble art is for those who can pay for it.'
'And fortifications?'
'Fortie what?'
'Fortifications ... banks and ditches like those round the village.'
Thunder's eyes narrowed. 'Banks and ditches is not for warriors. Banks and ditches is what your common people dig when they don't want to fight. Warriors don't need such things.'
Tom couldn't decide whether Thunder was joking or being serious. There was more to the cocky little man than appeared at first sight. He was hunting for something to say when they reached a clearing and began to descend a grassy slope that ran into a shallow valley. On the far side, a crowd was gathered about a recumbent form. As they got nearer, he was able to identify the arms, legs and body of an immense human figure.
Thunder tapped his arm. 'Prepare to be reborn.'
***
The figure was crafted from wickerwork and took the form of a pregnant woman lying on her back, legs apart in the birth position. The colossal structure was so big two men could sit, side by side, in the lady's upturned palm.
'Sky Warrior!'
The crowd roared his name when they saw him. Women tore at his clothing. Tom guessed they regarded him as imbued with the essence of male virility and wanted a piece to take home. He slowed his pace and would have come to a halt if the girls of the guard hadn't driven off his admirers with the butts of their spears.
They forced the women back and escorted him along the immense figure, past upturned feet, bulging thighs, dome-shaped belly and rounded breasts. They reached the head and Thunder pointed to the deity's gaping mouth.
'Right. That's where you go in.'
'Go in?'
'That's right. And I don't have to tell you where you come out.'
Thunder turned to a line of youths.
'I shall now introduce you to your fellow initiates who have been waiting in the cold for you to arrive. You will notice that the smallest is in front and the biggest at the back. I don't have to tell you where your place will be.'
Tom glanced at the serious-faced young people who stood with bowed heads. There were thirty or so, dressed in short cloaks that stopped well above their knees. He ran his eyes down the line.
'Hey. Some of those boys are girls.'
'What was that?'
'Some of them are female.'
'Quite right.' Thunder snapped back. 'You always get a few who want to be warriors. If they can't take it you soon find out. Same as with the boys.'
Tom followed him past diminutive males and made his way along the line until they came to a hugely proportioned girl at the rear. She looked like a model for the figure they were about to enter. He took his place behind her. Thunder raised his mace and the initiates dropped their cloaks.
'You too.' He pointed at Tom.
'You want me to strip off?'
'That's right. You didn't come into the world wearing clothes last time you was born so don't think you can do it now.'
Tom removed his jeans to the applause of the crowd.
'There's another reason why you're going in there as naked as a new-born babe,' Thunder shouted over the din of female voices. 'You wouldn't want to go in there with any items of apparel flapping about ... things what might impede your progress and catch alight.'
'Catch alight?'
'That's right. You're not going to pass through the goddess' body like on a quiet stroll. This time you're going to be born of fire.'
Thunder pointed to the deity's gaping mouth.
'Go in through there and don't get lost. There's only one way in and one way out. Anyone leaving by a different exit will have his head cut off.'
A woman in black walked down the line, sprinkling the initiates with liquid from a silver bowl. Tom noticed that it had begun to coagulate but didn't have time to dwell on the matter. Men with firebrands were advancing towards them. Thunder waited until the last of the young warriors had received the woman's blessing.
'Prepare to be reborn of fire.'
Thunder's baton came down. The initiates dashed forward and the men with firebrands set alight to the goddess' golden hair, which hung down in ringlets of plaited straw.
Tom was impressed. The young warriors were superb. They moved forward with speed and precision. He followed close behind the big girl and entered the deity's mouth as coils of burning straw broke loose and fell to the ground.
Naked bodies scurried ahead.
Tom followed them down a narrow passage and entered a chamber surmounted by two domes, which he identified as the deity's breasts. The fire was well behind but smoke was already upon them. He could hear his fellow initiates coughing but couldn't see them.
The buttocks of the big girl stood out in the gloom. She was struggling to squeeze through an orifice that was far too small for her oversized body. He tried to help but that made matters worse. His way was blocked and he had to get round the obstruction.
The goddess was made of wicker panels, bound together with straw rope. He threw his weight against them and a hole appeared. He widened it and peered through the gap. A stinking pit lay on the other side. Rotten flesh littered the ground and the stench was overwhelming.
He leant forward, lost balance and landed on a pile of offal. His vision cleared and he saw the top half of the big girl sticking out of the wall. She stared down at him with pleading eyes.
Tom did his best to ignore her. It was no time to play the Good Samaritan. The girl was doomed and there was nothing he could do about it. Then qualms of conscience overcame him and he clambered towards her over a mess of decaying meat. She grabbed his hands and he threw himself backwards.
Bodyweight did the rest.
'This way!'
He yelled and they scrambled over a pile of dead sheep and entered a chamber stacked with straw dolls. Tom guessed that they had progressed from the bowels to the womb and were nearing the approved exit. A hole suggested the birth channel. They plunged down it past a constriction and down an incline.
Something was wrong. He regretted that he had not paid more attention to the huge figure. The channel seemed to go on forever. Then, to his dismay, it terminated in a vault. Five protuberances stuck up from the ceiling. They had to be toes. There was no other explanation.
'Back! Back!'
His military training took over.
'Keep going. Don't stop.'
He yelled at the girl and they fought their way up calves and past knees. Smoke filled the air. Somewhere ahead there was coughing. They ran towards it and entered a chamber packed with naked bodies.
The exit was in front. A glance told him it was undersized. The smaller initiates had got through. Their bigger companions were finding it increasingly hard. He placed a foot on the buttocks of a departing youth and pushed him out. A series of kicks stretched the orifice in one direction and a mighty heave widened it in another.
He hurled the initiates through with the help of the girl and followed close behind. The entire figure was now on fire. They held hands and dashed between burning thighs towards blazing feet. Thunder, was there to meet them.
He cast a critical eye over Tom.
‘You took your time.’
‘We got a bit held up,’ Tom explained
‘Indeed you did.
Thunder produced Tom’s clothes.
‘Put these back on. The fabric is awful. Don’t they have any proper tailors where you come from? You'll need something better now you are going to serve in Her Majesty’s household.'