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This
is a story of ancient times, when the world was new. Clocks
had not yet been invented and the ancient peoples lived and
worked with the seasons. It was a time of hardship and obviously
the survival of the fittest.
Fictional, perhaps, but I like to believe that without a modicum
of fact there can be no fiction! The story begins near the
ancient hill fort on the Wrekin and ends at an Iron Age hill
fort known as Wychbury near Stourbridge. The garlands mentioned
for the ceremony are made of ivy, common on Wychbury, the
lilies I believe are arum (or cuckoo pint), the snakes tongue
no longer grows there but was known to have existed in ancient
times on marshy ground.
Ceirigg ran eastward by the light of the moon. She was lost
and tired as daybreak dawned and slept in a small copse. Hungry
and tired but at least free. Having rested for some hours
she carried on with her journey, to where or what she did
not know. Her steps were slower now and her skin sandals somewhat
tattered. As she walked she reflected on the previous day's
happenings when her mother told her of her plans.
Daughter, you have completed seventeen full seasons of life.
As is our custom you will be betrothed on the eighteenth celebration
day, when the harvest is gathered, when the festival of the
harvest is observed.
I have spoken to the other elders and they have chosen Moggad
for you, as he is strong and powerful. Although not a Ceti
he has lived and fought among us for three full seasons and
has a right to choose one of our maidens. It will be a good
thing for the Ceti to have mountain blood as the mountain
peoples are strong where we are delicate. The Gods will smile
upon you my daughter, you will have many strong children."
The last words she had spoken had strengthened Ceirigg's resolve
to escape as she disliked Moggas, a giant of a man with flaming
hair who came from the mountains far west.
All Ceirigg took was a small amount of food and a skin of
water. In the distance she noticed a ridge of red sandstone
hills and thought she might find shelter there as she knew
that her mother would send warriors to find her and that it
would be better to travel by night. Another night and day
passed before she reached her destination. Bathing her feet
in the small river, which ran close to the shelter of the
ridge, Ceirigg suddenly felt very alone and weary and to make
matters worse she now had to travel barefoot as her shoes
had disintegrated. There were plenty of wild berries and fruits
to sustain her here although without bread and meat she was
getting weaker. On the horizon she could see a range of hills
in the distance, possibly two days away.
On the fourth day of her journey Ceirigg had almost reached
her destination and decided to take the risk of travelling
by daylight. Suddenly a loud roar shattered the silence as
a massive wild pig with bleary, bloodshot eyes lunged at her,
as she turned to run she caught her foot and tripped
Weak from lack of food she knew that she would not outrun
this terrible creature. Ceirigg closed her eyes and waiting
for the pounding feet to trample her to death.
As it launched itself for the final attack the great beast
fell backwards, a spear protruding from its forehead.
Was this a God that stood over her, dark curls blowing in
the breeze with the sun casting dappled shadows over his brown,
strong limbs?
Surely, yes he must be a god, she thought and crawled at his
feet in supplication.
Ceirigg was lifted up and carried to a small grove and made
comfortable. The "god" conveyed to her that his
name was Daled and that he was the son of Daggad the leader
of the peoples who lived at the hill close by.
She would not be accepted by his people because of her delicate
stature for times were hard and everyone had to work but Daled
built a shelter for her and brought food whilst her ankle
grew strong again. The spring and summer days were filled
with the carefree laughter which only the innocence of youth
can bring.
Happy, heavenly days when they roamed the countryside, hunting
and fishing and watching the numerous birds in the sacred
grove of yews and oaks, which topped the hill.
Soon crop-cutting time approached and Daled told Ceirigg that
as his initiation as an elder was soon to be that a wife would
be chosen for him. The ceremonies took place in the sacred
grove on the night of the Red Moon (so named after a fierce
battle which had taken place between two tribes both of whom
wanted possession of the hill). The rain had begun to fall
and as it washed down to the marshy ground below the blood
of the slain warriors turned the water red and so as the moon
reflected it was also stained blood red.
The wise men of the tribe saw this as an omen and a truce
was called, the two tribes joined and so peace reigned.
Thereafter, on the night of the full moon, the sacred grove
was bedecked with garlands of ivy, lily and snakes tongue.
The maidens also wore garlands. The feasting would last for
two days. Daled argued with his father but knew that he must
obey him and promised to meet Ceirigg one last time, before
the ceremony took place.
He waited but Ceirigg did not come and he ran out into the
scrubland calling her name. There he was met by a wild boar
and having no weapon and relying on his agility to save him,
had slipped and struck his head a fatal blow.
Ceirigg had been captured by a band of her tribesmen who had
been sent to find her, she managed to escape and had run as
fast as she could calling his name.
Too late Ceirigg ran to the same steep rock and fell to her
death, calling out to Daled that she would never have broken
the bond of friendship and that their vows to each other would
be made in the afterworld.
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