Song of Albion 1 - The Paradise War by Stephen R. Lawhead

Author:Stephen R. Lawhead [Lawhead, Stephen R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Historical, Mythology; Celtic, Imaginary Places, Voyages to the Otherworld
ISBN: 9781595542199
Publisher: Thomas Nelson Inc
Published: 1991-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

The cone-shaped mound was flattened at the summit, much as I had envisaged from below. A few paces in from the outer edge, the circle was marked with several hundred round, white stones-each stone buried in the earth with just the top protruding. Smaller stones marked the radials like the spokes of a wheel, one spoke for each of the four quarters. The tall pillar stone marked the hub of the wheel, and was covered from its buried base to its tapering point with intricate whorls and spirals, and the curious, dizzying circle maze which was a Celtic commonplace-the entire surface covered in a richly patterned union of designs, all intertwining, all cut in sharp relief into the surface of the white stone.

Some of the departing bards had deposited their branches of hazel at the base of the pillar stone.

Tegid retrieved one of these and handed it to me. "Hold to this. Whatever happens, do not let it go from your hand."

I was about to ask him what it was that he expected to happen, when he raised his hand and brushed his fingertips across my mouth. "This, too, is for your protection. See that you utter no sound."

At once the words forming on the tip of my tongue deserted me; all desire to speak fled. I merely nodded in mute agreement and clutched the leafless hazel branch more tightly. "Stand outside the ring," Tegid said, pointing to the outer circle of white stones. 1-Ic glanced quickly at the sky, then turned, taking up his oaken staff, and hastened to join Ollathir, who had pulled his cloak over his head and begun pacing slowly around the pillar stone, his rowan rod clenched in his hands and held before him.

The two bards moved together around the standing stone, and the sun-flushed sky deepened into twilight. I looked to the east and saw the rising edge of the full moon just peeping above the sea rim. It was the time-between-times.

In that same moment, Ollathir, Chief Bard to Meidryn Mawr, stopped his pacing and raised his rowan rod to the sky, gripping it with both his hands. He called out in the secret language of the bards, his voice loud with the power of the Taran Tafod.

From the leather bag at his belt, he brought out a handful of the precious dust which the bards call Nawglan, the Sacred Nine. It is a specially prepared mixture of ashes obtained from the burning of the nine sacred woods: willow of the streams, hazel of the rocks, alder of the marshes, birch of the waterfalls, ash of the shadows, yew of the plain, elm of the glens, rowan of the mountains, oak of the sun. This he scattered to the four quarters-and to the four quarters between the quarters-as he began slowly pacing once more in a sunwise circle around the pillar stone, which is the sacred center of Albion, the Island of the Mighty.

Tegid also paced, following three steps behind the Chief Bard, holding tight to his staff of oak, a fold of his cloak over his head.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.