The sky ripped open and for a split second night became day. One....two....three...the sky dragon roared in anger at what he saw in the fleeting brightness. Again the darkness was interrupted and the sky dragon roared again. This time it was not so urgent. This time he cried in hopeless despair.
          The land below had turned grey. Indeed the colour had been seeping from the landscape over a period of some time but none had felt empowered to do anything about it. Now even the sky was in mourning. It was a grief from which recovery would be very nearly impossible.

          Talia looked out of her hut at the land which had once been so green and beautiful. She could remember playing with the tribal herds as they fed on the lush heathers on the mountain sides. Now the land she must now inherit was dying. The heather had been burnt the previous year in the vain hope that it would grow with renewed vigour. In the Spring the whole land remained as if Winter had never ended.
          When Talia's mother was still alive the tribe gave valuable livestock as offerings to their Gods and, when their attempts failed, their sovereign gave her own life willingly in a hopeless effort to please the angered deities.
          A tear began to form in Talia's eye as she remembered how her mother had smiled and told her daughter to be strong. Talia never saw her mother again but she knew of the customs. She knew her mother had been bound with cords and taken to the tree at the edge of the marsh. She knew her mother had then hanged herself, had been taken down and laid gently upon the soft mud and the elders had watched in silent reverence as their queen disappeared beneath the murky waters.
          Talia angrily brushed away the tear before any more had a chance to form. Her mother had told her to be strong and she would need all her strength and courage to take her mother's place in the largest hut in the village. Her people needed someone to guide them through these times and to find a solution. There had already been rumours of a rebellion and a return to battling for leadership. Talia had heard of the old ways of fighting for rule and she recalled how she had been told that it had never worked. The land always fell to the men and the tribe was constantly at war with other tribes and within itself. There were often leadership battles every new moon, and consequently, the land became neglected and ruined.
          Talia would never allow the land she loved so much to be treated in that way again. She knew what her next task was to be. She must go to Megin, the wise-woman, to be presented with the symbols of accession and the blessing of the shaman. It would be an arduous task simply to reach Megin, for her cave was many days travel and Talia would need to face great perils. However, this was to be expected since this was one of the missions a prospective ruler must undertake.
          Taking a deep breath and gathering her thoughts, Talia opened the door of her hut and went outside into the cold, still air.
          She stopped in her tracks to avoid stepping in a pool of water. Looking down she saw her reflection and was only slightly startled by the resemblance she bore to her mother. Her long, auburn hair still had the freshness of her youth and two small plaits hung on either side of her pale face. Her skin, like the land, had taken on a grey appearance. Here and there lines had begun to show. The last few months had taken their toll. It was in her eyes where her light shone and their uncommon green colour sparkled with such vibrancy that it seemed her very life-force was in them.
          She pulled her coarse, woollen cloak around her arms to keep out the biting wind and approached the assembled crowd.
          Her people were rough, like the clothes they wore and the moorland they lived on. They were mostly stocky with thick wiry hair but there were a few who stood our from the rest. They were like Talia, tall and slender with long hair which was usually red but variations had occurred due to mixing with the moorland tribe. The tall people had much more refined ways and had arrived in the land just as the leadership battles were becoming brawls. It was they who suggested that a matriarchal system of rule might be an improvement.
          The elders beckoned Talia forwards and tentatively she went.
     "Talia," said one, "you know how dangerous a journey you have ahead of you. I think I already know your answer for you are very like your brave mother, but I must ask as the law dictates."
          Talia knelt in reverence "I have prepared myself for three days and nights. I am ready for anything you must ask me."
          "Though you are many Summers in age you are still young and, in many ways, still a child. Are you prepared and ready for what awaits you?"
          Talia rose and turned to face the tribe who silently awaited her words. She must not refuse or the village would resort to chaos once more. She must not fail for there were no other neophytes old enough to take her place and there would be no hope of returning the land to it's former prosperity.
          "My people, " Talia smiled, "I will undertake this journey and I will not fail you. The land we have relied upon for so many seasons has fallen ill and I must find a cure. Perhaps the shaman can give a solution and we can feed our children and grow our crops once more."
          The crowd nodded and murmur their assent. They had become cynical. It would take a miracle now to reaffirm their faith. But Talia looked healthy and she had natural cunning. Perhaps she could deliver them from whatever ailment gripped their land.
          Talia took a step forward to receive the blessing of the elders and her ceremonial weapons. Dagda, the elder who had spoken to her previously, laid one wizened hand upon Talia's bowed head. Silently he gave his blessing and silently she received it.
          A few moments passed before Talia rose and acknowledged the blessing she had received with a gentle nod of her head and a tender smile. She turned to one of the young attendant boys. "They are so small and innocent", she thought, "Can they possibly understand what is going on here?" Talia laid a slender hand on the child's curly blond hair and gently ruffled it. The boy looked up at his future queen and smiled. He understood and he was grateful.
          Talia turned to another of the attendants who was struggling with a large and unwieldy bundle. Dagda took something from the bundle and held it out to Talia. As she laid her hands on the sword Dagda spoke:
          "These things which we now give to you are to help you in your quest. They are sacred weapons and tools which have been passed down from your ancestors. Use them wisely for their purpose may not be immediately apparent to you. Use your cunning and intuition, do not rely on strength alone."
          Talia noted this advice. She took the sword and examined it closely. It was very long and reached from the floor to the top of her thigh. It had a double edged blade made from a silvery metal and a large clear stone set into the hilt in such a way that one could look right through it. She placed the sword in her belt and turned towards Dagda who handed her a round, leather covered shield with straps attached to one side. The front was studded with a traditional tribal pattern which she knew symbolised the protection of the spirit of earth. Talia then accepted the final item. A leather pouch containing many different herbs and roots. Talia had been schooled in the use of herbs and simples and she knew that not all of the plants in the pouch were used for healing. Some of them were highly poisonous. She looked at Dagda, a puzzled frown furrowing her brow. Dagda nodded. "You may find yourself in a situation where you will need such things. I pray that the Gods do not let you get into such a position. But they have many people to watch over and their gaze may not always be upon you." Talia slung the shield over her shoulder and fastened the pouch to her belt. She took a long last look at the people she would be leaving behind. The council of elders would take care of the simple laws and petty squabbles. They would also continue to venerate their Gods and attempt to appease their anger through ancient rituals. There would be no more sacrifice. They could ill afford to lose what was left of their rapidly diminishing livestock. Talia took in their sad faces, the very image of destitution and misery, and she vowed that she would not fail them. She turned her back on them and with out taking a second glance she began her long walk to the place in the mountains where Megin the seer lived.

          Megin looked through her open door. Then she closed it and sat down heavily on the large carved chair in the far corner of her cave. The cave was in fact a room cut squarely into the rock face by the ancients as a retreat for the wise ones. It had always been the belief that their powers were strongest when they were isolated from the normal pressures of life. The truth was that the ancients had been afraid of these women with their strange abilities to see into the future and to cure by laying their hands on the afflicted. As time went on the people became less afraid and more curious and when their curiosity was finally satisfied then it became merely tradition to hide their seers away in this cave, they were no less respectful of the powers the women possessed but tradition was important to these people who had very little else.
          The room was cool, the temperature varied little between Summer and Winter. There was a fireplace for when warmth was needed and simple furnishings to provide the basics of comfort, the bed, table and chair were all carved from solid wood. The mattress on the bed was filled with moss, heather and grass. It could be taken out and the filling replaced if necessary. The furniture took up most of the space in the room and the rest was filled with esoteric and mysterious items of all descriptions.
          Megin put her head in her hands. What she had seen through the doorway was a mirror image of herself. She had always known that the wise ones were connected to the land but she had never before realised how closely. Megin knew that she was dying. She could feel her body slowly beginning to fail and the same thing was happening to the land she had striven all her life to protect. She had asked her Gods to explain what was to be done but, when there was no reply, as there had always been in the past, she realised that her powers were failing too.
          When she was appointed as seer she had been only a young girl but her powers had been strong. At that time she had been a tall beautiful creature with dark hair and eyes ever changing colour with her mood.
          When it was realised by the other members of the tribe that the young Megin had the power she was immediately taken from her family and prepared for training by the previous seer. Her mother was reluctant to let her only child go but she knew it would be useless to protest. When a girl with such abilities was discovered she was always taken away to be trained, for few passed the stringent tests.
          Megin proved that her abilities did not fluctuate with the seasons or the phases of the moon. Nor were her powers limited to the telling of fortunes or mere conjuring tricks. She had genuine qualities that be sensed by even the most cynical.
          So began Megin's life as a seer. When the old woman died Megin took possession of the cave and it's contents as countless women had before her.
          Now Megin herself knew that a successor must be found as soon as possible for there was no-one else to teach the accumulated knowledge of many gifted women.
          She took a large copper bowl from the shelf and a pitcher of water from the table. Slowly she filled the bowl and murmured a prayer to the Gods to give her the strength to be able to see an image. She removed a small silver disc from a pouch and dropped it into the bowl. The interior of the bowl had been coated with pitch and the silver disc swayed as it fell into the night black bowl. After sitting in silence for a moment, eyes closed, she moved her hands slowly over the bowl and gazed deeply into it.
          For a while she focused on the coin then her gaze shifted slightly and her attention seemed to be elsewhere. She could have been seeing something a million miles away. She saw a woman walking across the plain towards the mountainous region where Megin's cave was. The woman had a satchel over her shoulder and a shield slung across her back. Something long and metallic glittered in the sun. A sword? But what would this person be doing with a sword? She appeared to be setting out on a very long journey. Sudden knowledge jumped into Megin's consciousness making her lose concentration for a moment. The woman was coming to visit her! There was hope after all. But from the direction she was taking Megin knew this woman would have to face terrible obstacles. Anyone who wanted an audience with the wise woman really had to be in great need. The old woman would have to try to make the youngster's journey a little easier if there was to be any hope of having someone to inherit the humble dwelling.
          Megin allowed her eyes to leave the bowl and drift around the room. It was forbidden to assist anyone on their way to the cave. The Gods would not allow her to use magic for that purpose. Yet there was a way. Megin got up and walked to the doorway and called down the cliff side.
          "Grian? Come here. I need you for a moment!"
          As her words echoed out over the rocks a muttering answered her and a stocky dwarf-like figure crept out from behind a boulder.
          "Whaddaya want?" It grunted.

          Talia was weary. She had walked many miles and she was tired and hungry. She looked in her satchel to see what had been provided, although she knew the tribe had little to spare. There was a piece of cheese left over from the last milking of the sheep, a loaf of coarse bread and a small flask of barley cordial. She took out these things and cut a slice of bead and cheese with her knife. As he ate she reflected on what was expected of her and doubts began to enter her mind. Would she succeed in getting even half way to the wise woman? When she got there would she pass the tests and be ordained as queen? Would it make any difference? Could she possibly save the land where her mother had failed even though her own life had been given in sacrifice? At this memory Talia wept. For the first time since her mother had gone to the marshland Talia allowed the tears to flow freely and missed the woman who had brought her up, given milk to feed her, given knowledge, guidance and finally her life. Talia soon recovered. She had an important task to perform and many families lives depended on her.
          Suddenly there was a noise. Nothing loud or menacing but there was definitely something there. The young woman put away her food and drink and took the sword form her belt ready for any unwelcome attention.
          Slowly she crept around the rocks ever alert to danger. Just as she though the must have imagined the noise it was there again. Like someone breathing very loudly and heavily, but it was a much louder sound than any human could have made. Talia looked around the next rock and stopped. In front of a low cliff face about a hundred paces away she saw a cave. In front of the cave there was an enormous reptile. It's scales glinted in the light as the gargantuan body heaved with each breath it took. In her fear Talia neglected caution and her sword clanged noisily against the rock. "Now I'm done for, "she whispered as the creature awoke, eyes blazing at having it's rest interrupted. Talia leapt behind the rock just as the lizard stretched it's previously concealed wings and began to beat the air furiously. Talia sat with her back pressed to the rock, hoping desperately that the creature would not decide to investigate the sound she had made. She knew that a battle would be completely out of the question. This was a monster, ten times her size at least and many times stronger than the slender young woman. Only her wits could get her out of this unfortunate predicament.
          Talia's eyes wandered, looking for inspiration. Finally they rested on the sword hilt and the crystal set with in it. The light was being filtered through the crystal and was creating rainbows that danced on the rock opposite. Talia had an idea.

Copyright © Jo Blair