Queen Maeve

Henry Rainsford John

Description

John Henry Rainsford's novel Queen Maeve is set in Ireland. It begins on the day when the gates of the Otherworld are thrown open and the spirits of the dead return to the land of the living.It isn't long before things take a dramatic turn for the worse and havoc is wreaked. War is raged, blood is spilt; how will it end?

Sujets

• Science fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 30 mars 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528908771
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Queen Maeve
John Henry Rainsford
Austin Macauley Publishers
2018-03-30
Queen Maeve Copyright Information © Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine
Copyright Information ©
John Henry Rainsford (2018)
The right of John Henry Rainsford to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781786298829 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781786298836 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781786298843 (E-Book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2018)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Chapter One
Goddess Epona arrived at the iron gates of the Otherworld bearing in her tender arms the spirits of one hundred thousand slain warriors. She deposited the spirits at the gates, and rang a bronze bell to signify the imminent approach of midnight. The goddess informed the spirits that the sacred festival of Sowain was at hand and inserted a key in the lock, which she kept on a twig of white roses about her graceful neck. Then she opened the heavy iron gates.
She granted the hundred thousand spirits one full day in the world of the living, the sacred festival day of Sowain. Before allowing the spirits to depart however, she informed them that they were required to return by midnight before the echo of the bronze bell faded away, or the heavy iron gates would be closed permanently against them. Then their deathly spirits would forever roam over lonely hills and valleys in search of a new home, but destined never to find one.
As the spirits readied to depart, Epona opened a silver casket. In this she kept the earthly memories of the slain warriors. She returned the memories to the spirits, each in turn; but warned each in turn to use it carefully, and not to cause trouble in the land of the living. Soon all the spirits were fled, and she locked the iron gates again.
Early morning dawned in drifting cloud-fogs on the bleak westerly and windswept province of Connaught, where King Ailill prepared for the sacred festival. His servants placed a round slab of pine resin from Gaul in an earthen bowl. They heated the solid dark resin, and when it changed to liquid they massaged it into the king’s red hair. Then they piled his hair on the top of his head and allowed it to harden. On top of this they placed his kingly crown, and held a mirror to his face. The crown signified his importance, and the resin added to his height.
Through the wet and clinging fog, thirty Connaught chiefs journeyed over bogs and heather to celebrate the sacred festival in the craggy hilltop fort at Knocknashee, the residence of King Ailill and Queen Maeve. The fires – which had been allowed to die out with the ending of the old year – were rekindled for the New Year, and the servants huddled around to get some warmth back into their bodies.
Meanwhile, male servants of the king selected and cut out the weakest sheep in the flocks, and slaughtered them to celebrate the New Year feast. The slaughter also served another purpose: it saved precious fodder for the coming winter. The meat was stripped, rolled, and salted; and placed in a huge bronze cauldron of fresh water. Onions were halved and carrots sliced, and put in the cauldron with the meat. Then the bones of the slaughtered sheep were stacked on top of the burning turf fire.
As the bones burned heating the water, the servants selected six of the fattest turnips, cutting off the heads and scooping out the insides. They put balls of yellow pulp into the cauldron where it simmered with the meat. Into this mixture they put handfuls of ripened blackberries, filled with juice.
One of the servants – an old woman – greased two pieces of string with the fat of a slaughtered sheep. She took the string to the gate where two skulls were hanging. These were the heads of two enemies hanging at the entrance as a warning. The flesh had long since decayed, and only the white bones remained. She placed a greased string in each skull and set it alight. The lighted skulls grimaced in the fog, warning evil spirits they were not welcome.
The sacred festival of Sowain was the most important of the year, heralding the end of one year and the beginning of another. A period of one day elapsed between the ending of the old and the beginning of the new. This was the day when the spirits of the dead returned to the land of the living. On this most important day, the three iron gates of the Otherworld were thrown open and the spirits of the warriors were free to return to the lands of their birth, and of their death. The servants were careful when preparing the feast to leave out food for the roaming spirits. The servants and chiefs were fully aware that if the spirits were not made welcome in this world, they would not be made welcome in the next. Seats were left empty to greet the visiting spirits to the feast, and fires rekindled to warm them in the land of the living.
When the chiefs arrived, the servants stoked up the turf fires until the hot flames danced, and handed out tankards of dark brown ale. The chiefs drank the ale and warmed their hands, commenting on the foggy weather. They wore their hair long but groomed well, falling to their shoulders and turning inside. Universally they wore their hair this way, except one chief who was bald. They wore long drooping moustaches, combed and smooth, but otherwise they were clean-shaven.
They were dressed in woollen leggings, bound in strips of hide, and their upper garments were also made of wool, held by ornamental clasps. A few of the chiefs wore white wool, teased and spun from the raw fleece, and knitted by their wives and daughters. These garments were ideal for the wet climate because they resisted the rain. However, most of the chiefs considered white too common to wear, and instead wore rich garments of maroons and blues and yellows. They took great pride in their clothes, and in their appearance.
The dyes were obtained by selecting flowers and herbs, the colours required, and boiling them in a pot with the wool. This was done in layers, the wool below a layer of flowers and herbs until the pot was ready for the fire. Then it was boiled for a day and a night, and left to cool for a second day and night. The wool was then dried and spun in strings, and knitted into garments by the wives and daughters. However, these dyed garments did not resist the rain since the boiling process removed the protection. Yet the chiefs were not bothered about getting a soaking as long as they looked good in company, choosing outer display over inner comfort.
A game of little children played out by grown men began the festivities in the stone hilltop fort. This childish game concealed a serious intent. A wooden vat was filled with ice-cold water and the servants floated a huge apple on the surface. Fifteen young chiefs were blindfolded by the servants and hands tied behind their backs. The purpose of the game was to seize the floating apple between the teeth and lift it from the vat. The chief who accomplished this task had the privilege of sitting nearest the royal couple during the feast.
Fifteen bound and blindfolded young chiefs knelt around the vat and a servant clapped hands. As one they plunged their heads into the ice-cold water. Like stags meeting in challenge, heads butted in deadly combat as each man fought for the privilege of sitting nearest the royal couple, and to demonstrate his strength. The older chiefs refrained from the contest of the heads, choosing instead to view the butting young chiefs in the churning water. Blood from their wounds turned the water red, and it churned like a sea in storm. The older chiefs sagely shook their heads and passed comments about the rash impetuosity of youth, and recalled in fond remembrance the times they too had fought for the apple.
It was the chief of the O’Malley clan who won the apple, a man of nineteen summers wearing a red moustache and long turning hair. His fine yellow woollen jacket was drenched in foaming water, and bright blood gushed from a wound in his forehead. He was determined to prove his strength however, and ignored the wound. He pushed the ripe red fruit to the bottom of the vat and held it there. None could hold their breath as long as O’Malley as each chief in turn was forced to give up. His victory did not sit modestly on his broad shoulders, for his tribe was much given to boasting.
“O’Malley is the best man here!” he declared.
The waiting servants unbound his hands and removed the wet blindfold, drying his face and cleaning the head wound. He glanced around the assembled chiefs, daring any to challenge his claim, and pushing away the servants. The older chiefs grinned at his foolish words, and wisely held their tongues. The O’Malleys were much given to boasting at festivals. The older chiefs grinned even wider when they observed the young chief carefully preening his long hair and moustache, and shaking the water from his yellow cloak, asking the servants for a polished mirror.
Knocknashee