Family
to family
Friend
to friend
Free
to the free
Faithful
to the faithful
From
future to future
Foe
to foe
Until
the end of eternity
My
oath on it.
Danann is for Stonehaven
And
the Fireballs
Who
Protect and Preserve
Things
that matter
You
have gifted me this book
I
gift it to you in return
With
respect
And
admiration
Thank
you Stonehaven.
FROM OUR READERS
“Hi Shiela!
Thanks for sharing the story with me, I really enjoyed it! The history and
story line are nice, but I especially enjoyed how it was never just about the
WHAT; rather, the circumstances and events always served to introduce us to and
tell us about the WHO -- all the lovely characters you've portrayed so
beautifully. It's the same way in real life, I think. It's always about people
(family and friends) and what's dear to those people (faith and freedom) which
gives us hope for the future. Thanks again, my friend!”
-
Nathan
Pitchford about Mamm of Dunnottar
"The
books are about both families and nations, People holding it all together
during turbulent times, living their personal and spiritual lives while
defending their lands and culture to pass on to the next generation. In short,
the books are about Family, Friends, Freedom, Faith, and Future."
-
Phil Cohen about The Mamm Books
“I felt like
I was ‘there’. Like I was right there with the rest of them listening to Mamm
telling the Story at the hearth-fire of Dunnottar. Hurry and finish writing the
next one so I can go back!”
-
Pam
Marsh about Mamm of Tarnos
“Shiela, I
finished the first one this weekend--loved it!”
-
Susan
Neuharth about Mamm of Perth
Introduction
They
Are My Song is a series about a family, one that was
founded more than 1500 years ago. We first meet them in They Are My Song, the book from which all the rest spiral
out and return to in one way or another.
The Mamm Books take us even further
back in time as Mamm of Dunnottar tells the Story of her heirloom under-bed
storage chest and its Keepers over the generations leading up to her own.
Danann, on
the other hand, carries us far into the future of even our own time. Danann and
Sidhelagh make an irrevocable Choice in They
Are My Song the book and find themselves in Atonement, separated from
one another and having only their Voices to share with their family.
Unable to hear one another or have any direct contact
whatsoever, their grandlings Brann and Dothann figure this out and begin
repeating aloud the words they hear in their ears, the Voices of Danann and
Sidhelagh, so that the pair can at least know what the other is saying.
It is in Danann
that the two of them complete their Atonement and are reunited … in the year
3487 … three thousand years from the time they were separated by their own
defiance.
Much has changed in the interim of course. They are
shocked and appalled by some of what they find upon their return. They are
pleased and proud about others.
And some things seem not to have changed much at all.
Danann and Sidhelagh return to a world getting ready to
go to war – but it’s not like any war they have before encountered.
The skies are guarded by the Airborne; no attack on Earth
can come from the skies.
The waters are guarded by the Waterborne; no attack can
come from the waters.
The earth itself is protected by the Earthbound; no
attack can come by land.
The realm beneath the earth’s crust is protected by a
most powerful magic; no attack comes from that realm.
The people of Earth are at peace; they do not create this
war.
Yet there comes an attack. Earth goes to war.
It is perhaps the most ancient of warfare, and the most
deadly.
But how can anything or anyone have gotten through the
defenses of Earth?
With what weapon is this attack launched?
And how do you fight something that is invisible, a
creeping darkness that strikes the mind of man?
With every weapon at your disposal, with every army at
your command,
Danann
On Dunnottar in the year 3487,
three thousand years after that fateful battle in which Danann and Sidhelagh began their
Atonement, they’re reunited. They are their own true original selves, but
things in the world have changed in a lot of ways.
Being Sidhe, they have
naturally kept up with the changes.
Being not-Sidhe we have no idea what the heck might be
going on fifteen hundred years or so in our
future.
So we’re going to go along
and see what we can see.
While much in the world has
changed (to put it mildly) the basic geography remains the same.
Earth has divided itself
into four geographic identities:
-
Northwest (North America),
-
Southwest (South America),
-
Northeast (all of Europe and Asia),
-
Southeast (Africa).
These are known as the
Quadrants, are we surprised?
And then there are ‘The
Isles’ which belong to nobody except their own selves, no matter where they’re
located.
Now The Isles, however
scattered, share a culture that is wholly different from the Quadrants. Greenland
is called Northisle; Australia is called Southisle; the reasons are obvious.
Centreisle – well Centreisle
is Hawaii.
There have been other
changes.
There are no heart attacks –
those were one of the first ailments addressed by the technology of long long
ago. Nobody faints, either; blood pressures have been regulated in all for
about as long as hearts and other organs and body parts have no longer been
necessarily made of human tissue. Nobody has panic attacks, or physical
deformities or mental illnesses. There is no disease. Should someone
accidentally hurt themselves they are quickly and automatically renewed. Nobody
dies young, or of old age, or by accident, or by any means other than their own
choice, for that matter. At age thirty each and all choose the duration of
their own lifespans. Those who choose ‘forever’ are not allowed to reproduce as
no replacements will be needed for them. All parents are therefore over the age
of thirty and the population has stabilized itself over the many generations.
Not many opt for the ‘forever’ option as the choice includes having to go into
retirement at age seventy and spend the rest of that ‘forever’ monitoring the
many electronics and technologies of the world.
Another part of the way
things are in 3487 is the utter absence of the knowledge of anything whatsoever
that took place before the year 3000.
The libraries having been
long destroyed (as it is believed) the only knowledge to be found is by
electronic means – and at some point everyone’s electronics have been entirely
wiped free of the history of the world before 3000. Nobody knows anything at
all except for the way it has been for the past 487 years since the forming of
the Quadrants. It’s as though there was
nothing before that. History has been effectively deleted.
And so the world is at
peace.
The Quadrants are confined
within their own borders, their people governed entirely within those borders
with nothing whatsoever to do with the rest of the world. Each has resources
abundant enough to suit them and all are content with whatever culture they have
been born into. The Islers roam at will; they too are born into their own
culture and are well content with it.
The heavens have been
explored as extensively as mankind’s technological advances have made possible.
Several likely ‘homes’ have been located and several large vehicles have set
out to explore them further, the pioneers of the skies. These groups have been
gone for a very long time; since they left before the year 3000 nobody even
realizes they ever existed. Therefore, whether or not they have succeeded on
their quests is something nobody’s even curious about. At any rate, not ALL of
Earth’s population has remained on Earth.
Since Danann knows more than I do about
what the situation has been and is, let’s listen to his Voice tell us a thing
or two:
Danann speaks
Beneath the earth’s crust lie more nations.
One of those is where my mother grew up, among the Gentle Ones. Stilicho
the Getae General stole her and took her there as a three-year and there she
stayed, grew up, fell in love, and married.
When I was large in her belly, she was sent to Dunnottar as it was there
I was to be born, together with Sidhelagh as Spirit Twins; her mother too was
destined to give birth before the hearth-fire of Dunnottar.
As soon as my mother was safely on her way, my father sealed not only
the entrance gate that she used but all of the gateways to the nations beneath.
The Gentle Ones wish only to be let be. Their world has been sealed
against all for thousands of years; they have no wish to become remembered.
And so it has remained.
We have been among the Sidhe of the Ages for three thousand years, Sidhelagh
and I, watching.
We have watched the many wars, the many attempts to seek peace, the
learning of the people of the world.
We have watched nations rise and fall.
We have watched as the people of the world have tried to bring to
themselves order and balance.
We of the Sidhe have watched it all.
We have seen ash on the waters of the earth. We have seen clouds of
smoke filling the skies. We have seen many and many die but many and many have
also been born.
Although there have been times we have wished to help, to intervene, we
have been stayed by the Holy Trinity. The Mother will not unleash us but bids
us watch only.
And so we do. Mostly. Only rarely will the Mother let loose the leash of
Her will.
One time Sidhelagh and I defied the Mother, one time only. We have been
in Atonement for three thousand years as a consequence, separated from one
another, our Voices alone left for us to share with our family.
And so the long years pass, one after another after another. Our People
grow as generations pass, one after another after another.
Two only in each generation are Given, by the Trinity. ears with which
to hear our Voices. We know these two always before they are born, and so as
they take their first breaths it is our Voices they hear in their ears.
They know us not any more as Danann and Sidhelagh of Dunnottar; the
generations have long passed in which our People knew us as Danann and
Sidhelagh. But these two in each generation, they hear and know our Voices. We
remain near to them as they make their way to Dunnottar, and they always
succeed in their journey.
They know not why they are Called to Dunnottar, but they heed that Call
and it is to Dunnottar they go. and it is on Dunnottar, once in each
generation, that Sidhelagh and I can communicate. It is precious to us. These
hearing ones are well-loved and protected always.
They are descendants of Brann and of Dothann, who as younglings took
pity on us and Spoke aloud our words so that we two could ‘hear’ one another.
And so it has been.
For three thousand long years, so it has been.
The Dunnottar folk have been scattered
around the globe. For a thousand years their lines grew outward and spread to
the far reaches.
For another thousand years
those lines remained stable, in place, growing in power and strength: physically, financially, intellectually, in
influence and in spirituality (although they have become unaware of this last,
it has nevertheless been a part of the whole).
For the last thousand years
the lines have been finding their ways to one another, reconnecting and
distilling over generations, making their way back to a recombined power that
none could have possibly imagined.
As the strengthened lines
come back together they result in a family whose roots, could one trace them,
lead through the twists and turns of time straight back to Dunnottar.
Is it a fluke that the names
they bear, this generation, and the personalities they present, closely match those
so loved by Danann and Sidhelagh three thousand years ago?
No, it’s fiction-writing.
Or Destiny.
Take your pick.
Now, the current generation
can’t imagine that they are so very different from those around them.
Yes, they know about the
Voices coming to Brann and to Dothann, of course. It’s a family thing that goes
back for generations.
Yes, they recognize that
they as a family group seem perhaps more interested in learning and knowledge,
more perceptive in many ways, than the general population.
Yes, they acknowledge that
there are times when all feel an urgent necessity to hasten to one place or
another whether it seems to make any sense or not. And when they get to
wherever it is, they inevitably find that their presence has indeed been
urgently needed.
They realize that they have
inherited not just phenomenal wealth and influence, but the sagacity to wield
their power with justice and compassion. It is what they have been born to and
it is a responsibility they will not turn their faces from.
Theirs is a Legacy not only
of wealth and power – the more important Legacy lies in the Choices they make
about what they hold most dear. Of this Legacy they have yet to learn.
Still, what they do not see
is that they are indeed quite very different from most folks.
Danann and Sidhelagh, having
watched through the Ages, watch now … and smile.
Let’s go for a bit,
while Danann and Sidhelagh are busy with their smiling, to Brann and Dothann, and
the family who will come with them to Dunnottar.
Brann’s family is seated to
the North, up in Northisle where the summer days are very long and the winter
nights equally long. Brann’s parents, Aine and Kalann, together with his Aunt Caileen
and Uncle Talorc, control vast expanses of what was once a mostly barren
island. The before generations began making changes – using knowledge,
willpower, influence, and wealth, they made changes. The barrenness began to
shape itself into what has become a most distinctive and beautiful, if still
rather wild, part of The Isles. Working with the terrain and the climate rather
than against them, this family has created a productive and happy home for
their people. And there are many more people living there than one would
expect. Caileen, Talorc, Aine, and Kalann are the Keepers and the Protectors of
the north.
Dothann has been raised in
Southisle. He and his older sister Merri train for the responsibilities which
will become theirs, which are indeed theirs already as members of this family.
Though they are yet younglings they are an active part of the management of the
massive southern holdings. Their parents Alianora and Drustann, and their
Auntie Sass and Uncle Thann – these are the Keepers and the Protectors of the
south.
Mamm and Alaric, Elders of
this family, hold the reins of both north and south in their hands as they
maintain control from their home in Centreisle. This isle is tiny in comparison
to the expanses of Northisle and the even greater expanses of Southisle. Yet it
is from this little isle that the entirety of The Isles is governed.
Granted, The Isles doesn’t
take much governing. Each and all of the individual isles are independent,
regardless of their size. From the tiniest speck of rock with three people on
it, in an inland lake, to the enormity of Southisle, each governs itself as it
sees fit.
The Isles is loosely-held
but tightly-knit.
One would think that such a
widely spread out ‘nation’ would be at risk, vulnerable to the larger
Quadrants.
Not so.
It is their very diversity
and dispersion which serves to protect them.
Because
they are so widespread, their loyalty is extreme, their protectiveness of one
another is without parallel, and the quickness of all in coming to the aid of
any is legendary. They are everywhere, unconfined.
They didn’t have to prove
themselves too many times before the Quadrants came to understand that it was
best for all concerned to let them be.
Borders between Quadrants
have been closed for many hundreds of years by the time 3487 rolls around. The
only ones who really go anywhere are the Islers. Nobody impedes their freedom
of travel; since nobody else ever goes anywhere, nobody cares what the Islers
do or where they go. They’re free to travel at will, even those who live deep
within the boundaries of the Quadrants.
And there is
someone else we must meet.
There is one, not an Isler, who has also recently begun
to travel about among the people of the earth.
Of no great size, innocuous
in appearance, indeterminate of age, he poses as an Isler as he moves among the
people of the Quadrants, ignoring the closed borders. As none except the Islers
ever travel, the deception is easily maintained. He has several others
traveling, sometimes with him, sometimes separately.
Where they go, a sense of
dissatisfaction follows, dissents arise, thoughts of harm to others enter the
minds of otherwise peaceful persons. Contented people start finding things to
complain about. More than a few begin eyeing their neighbors with suspicion,
sure that plans are secretly afoot to rob them or otherwise do them harm – and
they begin to want to beat them to the punch and increase their own possessions
at the expense of their neighbors.
This is Aduan.
He and his handful of
cronies are few in number but they carry with them everywhere great sacks of
tiny seeds. The seeds can and do reach places that Aduan and his followers
themselves cannot reach directly. They fly on the winds of the world and find
homes where they can grow to maturity.
The homes they choose are
the minds of the people of the Quadrants.
Like a plague of weeds does
this crop take root and spread in the wake of Aduan.
He looks behind him and he
chuckles to himself.
‘They cannot take on the
entirety of the world,’ he mutters, ‘and the world will soon stand in tattered shreds once more, a wonderful place
in which to grow my garden.’
As the seeds of discontent,
greed, suspicion, malice, and angst take root and begin to sprout, they cast
hard dark shadows that grow quickly.
Dark vines they are, and
their tendrils have the strength to grasp and hold all that they encounter; invisible
though they may be, they have the capacity to carry to many the darkness that
springs from the sprouted seeds Aduan spreads so gleefully among the Quadrants.
A few he takes great pains
to plant carefully and to nurture by his own hand; these soon grow to
gargantuan proportions and overwhelm with cold darkness those minds he has so
carefully chosen.
And so the unseen darkness
spreads.
And so Aduan laughs.
His plan goes well this
time.
It is to his chosen few in
each Quadrant he goes in person, and to each does he speak of secrets of great
power and wealth which lie beneath the ground of the earth they know.
At first they sneer.
‘There is nothing unexplored
in our world. We know all there is to know about what lies below and what lies
above. Do not try to deceive us.’
‘Ah but you do not know all
there is to know. Beneath the crust of the earth which you know lies a realm of
beauty and marvelous secrets which none now remember. The earth is much older
than you can know. It did not spring up entire in the year 3000, you know. Have
you ever even thought about that?’
‘There is no reason to think
of that. The world we know is all we need to know.’
‘Perhaps. But is it all you
might WISH to know? If you had the great wealth, the magic power, that lies
below, think what you could do with it!’
And so the seeds are
nurtured.
It is Aduan who knows the
locations of the gateways in Northwest and Southwest; and reveals to these
chosen few a hint of his knowledge.
It is Aduan who directs
their attention to the one in Northwest, and feeds the ever-growing darkness
which has sprung from his seeds.
‘Follow me to Northwest,’ he
says. ‘That gateway leads to the one in Southwest, which is forest-bound and
difficult to approach from the outside. Along that long path we will find
splendor and riches enough for we few, and it is along that path we will find
and conquer the secret magic it holds. Follow me. We will rule the world, we
ourselves alone, with all to do our bidding and none to defy our will.’
The Sidhe of the Ages watch.
From their broader
perspective, they see the tendrils winding out, encompassing the peaceful
people of the Quadrants, spreading and spreading and spreading much more
rapidly than a person can imagine.
‘Danann and Sidhelagh return
only just in time,’ they murmur, ‘and unless they move quickly it may be not in time.’
The skies begin to show
small clouds here and there, tiny little dots of clouds that move about in
little clusters.
It is the Sidhe of the Ages and
they watch, leashed by the Will of the Mother but watching, watching, watching.
They well know what are
these dark vines; they know from whence they have sprung; they know the power
they wield.
It is when the Islers begin
to notice a change in the way the people of the Quadrants look at them that
they realize something is happening. They don’t understand it but they see it
and they feel it.
The Islers are of mixed
bloods but each and all of them have a strain of the ancient Sidhe, long
dormant but very much still potent in them.
And so it is that they can
and they do see the darkness of the shadows cast by the growth of Aduan’s seeds
as the tendrils grow and grow and grow among the Quadrants.
And so it is that the Islers
come to Mamm and Alaric with questions.
‘There is a darkness, a
sickness,’ they are told. ‘It is spreading in those among whom we live in the
Quadrants. They are no longer their happy bright selves but have taken on an
aura of dark; they grow cold.’
Troubled by what they hear
and by what they see for themselves as they travel among their people, Mamm and
Alaric hold their peace. But they begin to Search their own minds to see if a
solution can be found.
Within those minds does
indeed lie a solution. Yet Mamm and Alaric cannot find their way to it. The
ways of the Sidhe have been buried deep deep, even in this family, over the
course of the many generations.
While it has grown in
strength yet it cannot be reached, not by them and not by any – unless
something triggers the realization of its existence and it is brought to life
once more.
They have the means with
which to battle these dark tendrils … but they cannot find it.
Meanwhile, Aduan has been
merrily having himself a most wonderful time, he and his handful of cronies
with their big bags of deadly seeds.
They roam the world at will,
tossing here a handful, planting there a few extra powerful seeds, throwing
whole bushels into the winds and watching their flight, their landing, their
rooting, their sprouting, their growth.
. . .
Just for the fun of it, we're going to skip ahead in DANANN and see what we can see ...
...
Smack in the middle of the business
meeting is when both Danann and Sidhelagh decide they have to
Speak.
Being as they’re in the
middle of a formal meeting here, Brann and Dothann aren’t as forthcoming as
they usually are when Danann and Sidhelagh Speak. This time all they do is
whisper under their breaths. It gets them a couple of annoyed glances but
nobody says anything about it.
Danann and Sidhelagh, on the
other hand, are furious.
They can’t hear the
whispers, and of course are well aware than nobody else can, either.
Their
message is not getting through.
Frustrated, they huff
themselves out of the house and go find a few other Sidhe to give them a hand.
Enter the Elders of
Dunnottar’s ancient past.
And what a merry party that
business meeting turns into, if only there was anyone who could see it besides
Danann and Sidhelagh. The two of them are getting a whale of a kick out of
watching the originals of all of the currents poking the heck out of
themselves, so to speak.
They don’t have Voices, per
se, but they are Sidhe of the Ages
and have plenty of power of their own. They can’t do anything really major on
their own recognizance, mind you, because that requires being unleashed by the
Holy Trinity, the Mother in particular; but they can plant ideas in people’s
minds.
Especially when said minds
are inherently, instinctively, intuitively … so to speak … their own. Those
little seeds of ideas can grow to prodigious power right quick.
Mamm and Alaric, being the
eldest and strongest of both sets of selves, are the first to bear fruit.
Mamm springs to her feet
with Alaric rising right beside her, and off they race to the pod garage as
fast as they can go.
‘Keep up if you can!’ Mamm
shouts over her shoulder as they run.
Well now.
Aine and Caileen are right
behind them, running as hard as they can, babies bouncing and laughing in their
arms at the excitement of the chase.
‘Caileen!’ pants Aine. ‘Did you
know Mamm could run like that?’
‘Never! Are we that out of
shape? We’d better get ourselves to a toning facility, Aine.’
‘At least we’re ahead of the
others! Run, Caileen, run!’
And so they do.
Nobody is slow to follow on
their heels but even so by the time everyone’s in their own pods Mamm and
Alaric are already out of sight.
Not that it matters
overmuch. Everyone knows where they’re going.
As the whole kit and
caboodle of them land at the edge of Stonehaven, they get a few odd looks but
nobody really thinks much about it. Mamm and Alaric come and go as they please.
Everybody knows them; nobody expects them to behave in any sort of ordinary
fashion.
There’s not much
conversation while they’re walking through Stonehaven.
Until Danann and Sidhelagh
open up with Brann and Dothann, that is.
Sidhelagh starts it.
‘Dothann!’
And Dothann, taken by
surprise, says, ‘What?! Dothann!’
‘We
have to get to Dunnottar.’
And Dothann dutifully
repeats what he has heard, as he has since he could first speak, the words of
the Voice of Sidhelagh that he hears in his ears.
Then it’s Brann’s turn.
‘We
have to hurry,’ he says, because that’s what Danann’s Voice
has spoken into his ears.
Dothann and Brann stop and
stare at one another.
‘What the heck!’ they say at
the same time.
‘Is she talking to you?’
asks Dothann.
‘She? What she? It’s a man
talking!’ says Brann. ‘Is he talking to you?’
‘Uh-uh. I think they’re
talking to each other!’
‘You think so? Really?’
‘I bet.’
‘Well then why don’t they
just do that and leave us out of it?’
‘Because
we can’t hear one another’s Voices,’ says Dothann.
‘Yes we can,’ says Brann.
‘We’re hearing each other right now, Dothann!’
‘That wasn’t me, you idiot!
That’s what she just said in my ears!’
‘Oh.’
‘Can
we please just get a move on here? We have a deadline, you know.’
‘Dothann? Was that your
words?’
‘Nope.’
‘It’s
pleased I am to hear your words, lady mine,’ says Brann, earning
himself funny looks from a couple of old ladies who happen to be passing them
on the path through Stonehaven. The old ladies steer a wide berth around Brann.
‘Thanks a lot,’ says Brann
to the Voice. ‘They think me daft.’
‘You are daft,’ says
Dothann.
‘Dothann? If those are your words, kindly keep them to yourself. And if your lady Voice is
going to get all mushy she can keep her
words to herself, too. We’ll never
be able to show our faces in Stonehaven again if we walk around talking mush to
each other.’
‘We’ll
behave, won’t we love?’ says Dothann.
‘Aye,
my sweet. That we will,’ says Brann.
And that’s just about enough
of that for the youngling cousins.
They break into a run that
scatters others out of their way and earns them more than one profanity to
follow in their wake. Packages are dropped, groceries are spilled, people spin
and lose their balance, and Dothann and Brann run for their lives out of
Stonehaven. Nobody chases them; they’re all too busy collecting themselves and
their packages and groceries.
Once safely out of town and
out of earshot of outsiders, the two of them stop and roar with laughter – even
though neither of them thinks what
just happened is the least bit humorous.
Vengeance complete, Danann
and Sidhelagh begin to converse in earnest now, with Brann and Dothann
listening in (so to speak), spellbound by what they are saying/hearing.
. . .
And that's about all I have the energy for tonight.
Morning, actually. It's almost five o'clock and were it summer instead of January the sun would be up.
Oh, what the heck.
One more, from much later in the book. I think you might like this. It's fiction, so not going to be precisely all that 'accurate' - but I still think you might like it.
...
Thann doesn’t bother arguing
but goes to pick up the end of the chain. Gathering the length of it, he goes
to stand with the others at the fire.
‘What am I supposed to do?’
he asks the man standing next to him.
‘Just do what I do,’ comes
the answer. ‘We’ll light our fire-balls and then swing them, over our heads and
all around about, through the town. They catch whatever bad might be in the air
and take it into them as they burn. Then we heave the whole works into the
harbour. It’s a cleansing of our town, getting rid of unwanted or dangerous
things, giving us a clean fresh beginning.’
‘That sounds like something
we all need to do now and then.’
‘That it is, but few do it.
Get ready, we’re soon to start. When the Bells Sound their Voices, we’ll light
our fires. People throughout the town are going to be yelling and screaming so
don’t be shocked by them. They’re chasing things for the fire-balls to catch.
Now listen, Thann. Listen for the Voices of the Bells.’
In a very short time every
Bell in town starts ringing, tolling, striking, clanging, booming … whether
there’s anyone to attend them or not, the Voices of the Bells ring out. It is
Winter Solstice and the turning of the darkness.
And the fire-balls are lit
while the people yell and scream like banshees.
Thann follows his new
friend, but not too closely, through the streets assigned, swinging the
fire-ball at the end of its chain around his head, around his body, spinning
with it at times, dancing aside if it gets too close. When one arm gets tired,
he switches to the other. When both get tired, he uses both for a time.
‘Whew! Glad I didn’t try
this before we built that
roundhouse!’
After what seems forever,
they make their way to the harbour, and fire glows over the water as the balls
of flame are cast into the deep and extinguished with a lot of hissing and
steaming.
The screams and yells of the
people turn to cheers that sound kind of hoarse – this night’s event has been
as hard on their Voices as the swinging of the fire-balls has been on the
bodies of those who carried them.
Danann comes to find Thann,
easily seen as he is taller than everyone and dressed in white.
Thann goes to him and slides
his smoky sooty self into the white of his cloak.
‘What now?’
‘Now the bonfires. All
around the edges of the town are fires just lighting now, like the one in the
square. People are getting rid of rubbish they don’t want any more – and it’s
symbolic of getting rid of any bad feelings or whatever from inside of
themselves. It all goes up in smoke, you see. We’ll start at the nearest one
and make our way all the way around the town. Some people bring along things to
put into each fire as they go, but we’re pretty much spectators tonight.’
‘Speak for yourself, spectator! You weren’t the one swinging
that ball of fire all over the place! My arms are never going to be the same,
nor the rest of me, either.’
‘It’s good for you. Wait
until you see what you get to swing in the smithy!’
‘Oh goody. I’m so excited.’
Danann laughs.
‘Here are the others, and
here’s your mount. You can ride and rest for a while. Each fire will want us to
stop for a moment. They have warm drinks to share with us. Take them, but I
warn you, sip sparingly from each. They’re potent, I tell you – and there are a
lot of fires surrounding this town on this night.’
‘What about the kids?’
‘They’ll get spiced cider or
hot fruit drinks of different kinds. Ours have been warned to sip sparingly as
well; they’ll get belly aches if they don’t – and spend half the night having
to pee.’
Now Thann’s laughter rings
in the night, adding his Voice to the many who are also laughing and singing.
‘And after the round of
fires?’
‘After that, we all go back
to the square and make a big circle.’
‘Like the one on Northwest,
I bet. What a great way to finish cleansing your town!’
‘Yes, it is. It wraps it all
up. Now you know why we spend the daytime of this night quietly.’
‘If I’d known we’d be doing
all this, I’d have spent it sleeping!’
Danann’s Voice grows deeper
but Thann can still hear him clearly through the on-going din.
‘Stonehaven does itself
proud on this night, Thann. The people, they are just doing what they do, but
they are blessed. They have kept what the rest of the world has for too long
been sadly lacking. They don’t realize how special they are … or maybe they
do.’
‘I think they know, Danann.
I think they know. Else they wouldn’t do what they do, right?’
