Dark Heart - Chapter Eight

THURSDAY.THURSDAEG.THOR’S DAY.  JUPITER.  INTER MANUS, within reach.

“By Jupiter it’s hot” Jack thought as he woke up. He was in a very Roman mood today. OK that’s the lesson to be learnt today then, tolerance. A hard one for any Christian he thought, and a few other religions he mused. If you’re not with us, then you’re against us, the old, old story. Jack hated that. He would make this point perfectly clear. He showered, shaved and dressed, made a quick breakfast, thinking maybe someday Kia would like to have breakfast with him, then realising what he was thinking, tried to stop thinking about that. He would like to break his fast with her.
  He did like her. Rather a lot actually. Breakfast, well maybe together, one day, it was a little too soon for that. It wasn’t easy with a kid. They had to come first. The kid’s feelings must come first. He could be like some of his other mates, go on the internet, meet up with some stranger, have sex the same night, some women he didn’t know, sleep with her, then goodbye... It was too easy, but that wasn’t him. He was too good a parent. Sod his lusts! He was better than that!
  Mary sat at the kitchen table, post in hand. When Kia entered, she hardly glanced up.
  “What’s up?”
  “There’s a big bill.”
  “What, on a Thursday?  Normally we just get them on a Saturday. The bill people do that on purpose, post them on Friday’s so we all get them at the weekend, just to piss everyone off, because there’s bugger-all anyone can do till Monday.” Kia laughed. She looked at Mary, who hadn’t said a thing. She thought it couldn’t be that bad.
  Mary handed the bill over. Kia had a read.
  “OK. I’ll pay it today.” It was a big one.
  “I haven’t got enough for my half.”
  “Don’t worry about it. Pay me back when you have it.”

  Roman Britain.

  Lucious Laetonius Valentinus was a Tribune, to a legion serving in Britannia, and he really wasn’t impressed. He’d just come off duty. To be told by one of his “brothers”, that a hasty meeting had been called. Laetonius had, had other plans involving a rather good vintage of the best wine, that he had been saving, and after the last few days fighting, he could really do with it. His leg still hurt after that dark horse had almost toppled onto him. Give these bastards their dues, they could ride. He thought they didn’t use their horses to a good advantage, not like the Persians, but still, they were somewhat a nuisance.’ Temetfutue’, he thought. This was the last thing he wanted.
  He grabbed a lamp from his tent, added a bit of salt, just to make sure it wouldn’t smoke, he wanted to be as invisible as possible, and started to walk out of the camp. He could do this tonight; things would have already been arranged. Then he remembered he had something to do. So he jogged back to his tent. He plonked down on a chair, picked up a quill, and wrote...
He carefully folded the parchment, well very thin animal skin, cost a fortune, but then he had a fortune. He quickly left the tent a second time, and walked over to another, placing it underneath the back part, knowing that a rather pretty lady would notice it at once. He had got very close to this young woman, a couple of nights ago, and wished to repeat the experience, but now he was ready to go, the love letter already forgotten. He wrapped his clock around his shoulders, as the wind picked up. He hated this cold country, he couldn’t wait till his serving time was over, and he could go back home. When-ever that would be. In the meantime, he’d find comfort in the women, and his flask of wine. There were rumours not that that was anything unusual, soldiers were worse than women in that respect, but the latest rumour had been that all was not well in Rome. Some officers even speculated there was to be a call-back soon, which would suit him fine. Spiritually, his world was dying here and he and his brothers had been forced underground, to make room for this new cult sweeping the country. It was dangerous. They would not lose the war, just the battle. This new religion had no tolerance for anyone or anything, and it made no sense. A strange thing it was.
  He was the last to arrive.
  A group of seven men stood outside the temple. Leatonius was dumbstruck as he looked at their faces. Why in Hades were they in the open? In plain view, they knew what had been going on, which meant that something bad must be inside. He was Roman so he didn’t let his fear show, and greeted them as usual.

   His brothers, were agitated to say the least, and talked all at once, strong, loud voices they made no sense.
  “Quiet please. Restrain yourselves.” He raised his hands to quiet them.
  “Speak Quintus, soundly.” Quintus took a deep breath, the others fell silent.
  “You need to see for yourself.” Was all he said, and gestured to the entrance of their temple, the entrance was the same as ever and hidden well. The only tell-tell signs were the pretty rocks and shells on the ground, and an old ornate bottle. Otherwise no-one should have known there was an entrance.
Laetonius held the lamp high, Quintus, and Rollo pulled some branches aside and all descended into the darkness within.
  The man-made steps were sound. The temple was well looked after, but there was a lot of dirt underfoot. While walking down, Laetonius noticed there were a lot of hard bits getting inside his boots. The steps were normally free of rubble and stones, normally spotless. A foreboding feeling began to creep into him, by the time he reached the bottom fear had taken hold of his heart, as he guessed what may have happened. The dread was to be confirmed. He made the sign and touched the mark on his forehead, under the hairline.
  Torches burned bright in the darkness, normally being a comfort, but now he feared what he was about to see. Stay alert, danger, breath, adjust, recognise, take the scene in and deal with the shit that followed. He stared in silence.
  The temple had been built by other Romans years ago. No-one quite knew when. Apparently it had been an old sacred site used by worshippers of some local god, the name now long forgotten. It was still around somewhere, Laetonius thought. The Britons often had their tribes named after the God the worshipped. The most valued god, of the tribe, like the Brigantes, named after Briga. Rivers held old names too.
  A few years back, while repairing the far wall, the Romans had removed a large rock, at the back end they had found several bronze axe-heads, and lots of pots made of clay, decorated with swirls, and dots. A big grinding stone had also been found. There had been no bones, so they guessed it hadn’t been a place of burial. They had poured wine over the ground and re-buried them just to be on the safe side. To please whatever spirits they may have disturbed or possibly woken. It had worked, there had been no incidents. Nothing bad had happened, not until today that is. They had tolerance of others beliefs, welcomed them even, it was of course the best way to keep the locals happy, and letting them worship the Romans gods at the same time, a lot seemed to be the same, well that was to be expected. The only thing the locals did not seem to like was when Rome had insisted they worship the Emperor, that had not gone down well, several statues had been smashed, so that idea had been scrapped.

   Leatonius, Rollo, Quintus and the others crossed over the painted floor. The temple really was beautiful. With shells for decoration on the walls, and the seven grades of initiation pictured in the mosaic floor....the raven being somewhat worn now.
  The wall paintings needed to be re-coloured, the three pillars at the far end had now been systematically smashed, the ceilings stars and constellations had human shit thrown up at them, and the painting of Mithras had been smeared with human blood. The invincible sun-god had been desecrated by the Sons of God. They had used the priest’s blood and had written their usual slogans along the walls. They preached love, and killed in the most hideous ways possible. The horrific deaths had been many lately and it had only been a matter of time before this one was found. The followers of the Jesus cult were fanatics. They could be evil if they chose. They hated everyone that didn’t share their very strange views, and power and gain was all they were after. How they were becoming powerful was due to politics.
  Laetonius looked at his dead friend. He had been the best guide ever, had given so much too so many of them, he was so ....dead.
  The priests head had been smashed. Pity they couldn’t crucify the lot of them Laetonius thought, it wasn’t just Mithras they targeted, but they were seen to be a big threat, which you could understand, because they couldn’t agree on their own religion, and often fights broke out within their own ranks, and Mithras had been here first. They had tried to take him over. No chance. People were not dumb. They targeted others too. All other cults or religions were not tolerated. It couldn’t be controlled by them, and then they destroyed. They killed, burned, ripped, raped, and then went and preached how good they were. How spiritual!
  At least he hadn’t been burnt alive like the other one.

  What was this world coming to? You couldn’t even talk to these people. They would never listen to reason, they had their eyes shut, and their ears heard nothing. They were blind, and deaf, and they caused death. They were like the demons they talked about. The Satan they called it. They were so self-loving, and strange. They believed stories, and tried to make them fact. It was all very weird. They took the stories as truth, they didn’t look beyond to their true meaning, and it confused people. Where they that stupid? No one believed in the virgin birth, it was...oh what was the point? They never listened anyway. They had no proper teachers, making do with bits of parchment, corrected and scribbled on, but there was no-one to explain properly what it all meant. Then they killed. Thou shall not kill. But they did. They lied. Thou shall not bear false witness.
  Leatonius seethed inside, but his roman passive-face professionally in place.
  “We need to bury him.”
  Quintus spoke, his voice equally passive, “what shall we do, regarding the temple?”
  “Good question. Consummatum EST. It is finished.” We shall bury him here. He would have liked that."
  So they did. No doubt, in a couple of thousand years time, It’ll confuse the archaeologists, especially with the ritual that was performed, old gods, and the roman gods had lived well together, almost intermixed at points. Like Sulis, being one of the most famous. The Romans had their bad points, but not when it came to the Gods their tolerance was to be commended.
  Unless you tried to alter the Pax Roma, or disturbed the status quo, then you were for it!
  The Jews were a big constant pain, having the same problem, forever fighting anybody, especially themselves. The Christians took their religion from the Jews, turned it about a bit. Added some stuff of their own, and look at what they were left with, but it was already corrupted, had been as soon as the Christ had died. They could not even agree on that.

   Pilate asked, “What is truth?” He should have asked, “So what was the truth?” Or “Where has it gone?”
  Kia and Jack had met up ten minutes ago. They now sat in the park. He handed her an envelope.
  “When you open this, I want you to read it and NOT comment. I’m doing this for a reason. Kia opened the letter, read it, her face going from a pretty smile to anger, followed by sadness. She desperately wanted to say something, but held her tongue.
  “No talking about it.” Jack reminded her.
  Kia was really upset. She could have burst out crying as some of what she had read was really hurtful.
  “This should not piss you off.” Jack said calmly, knowing full well that it would, as that was the idea.
  “Yes” Screamed Kia.
  “Why?” Again he remained extra calm. “Am I not entitled to my own opinion? Do I have to believe the same as you, even if it makes no sense to me?”
  “Of course not, you can believe what you want, but that doesn’t make you, it shouldn’t make you write this. This is horrible!”
  “No it’s not. It’s what people think if they’ve never come across a Christian or a Catholic before. Look at your average reaction. I’m disappointed at you Kia.”
  Jack turned his face away. Kia was ready to shout at him, but stopped herself, and began to wonder why he was doing this.
  “Do you know the crusades were started by the Pope? Power and glory Kia, and all in Gods name! My question is, why in his name, as he had nothing to do with it! Joan of Arc finds a sword and starts a bloody war, again all in his name. I fight for God. I would have thought he could have fought his own battles. What a pathetic excuse, and It’s still being used today! Not so much by the Christians, they are a peaceful bunch now-a-days, but would you want to quit? I can walk away today, and never see you again if you like.”
  That was the very last thing Kia wanted. She also longed to say yes, as she was angry, but she couldn’t he had the winning hand.
  “No.” Was all she managed to say, so then she turned her face down to the ground in defeat and she still didn’t understand his point, she had a stumbling block.
  “You need tolerance. There are a few wonderful Christians I know that have that, but there are still a lot that don’t. It’s not just them either, actually come to think of it there are a lot of religions out there that could really do with this lesson,  I’m  just picking on them because you’re one. We all need this. The world would be such a better place.”
  “That surprises me...”
  “What?”
  “That you have Christian friends!”
  “Would it surprise you to know that my daughter goes to church twice a week?”
  Kia wasn’t surprised, she was shocked.
  “Long ago I learnt this lesson.  I have tolerance, I’ve never, not had It., especially with religion, or the ignorant. How do we learn if we don’t explain? This lesson didn’t need to hurt, that wasn’t the intention really, but you need to learn this well. Others have feelings too, just because they don’t believe the same as you, they could be right.

   In the late roman times, let’s say the 3^rd or 4^th century, in a beautiful temple the crime of murder was committed, a priest was killed, and not in a very nice way. The temple was desecrated, and it was done by followers of Jesus. But then of course man had made him into what could be used. He was a threat, as was they’re religion, they held onto their own beliefs. Couldn’t they have just held their own? No, they couldn’t, and they were stubborn and cruel. Every lie gets found out eventually, every truth does cone to light at some point, and some people do listen. In order to make the future better, you have to learn by the past and say sorry....but don’t worry, there were worse that you lot out there. Still is. They still kill. At least the Christians stopped doing that a long time ago..., according to the conspiracy’s some is still going on with the fanatical sects of Catholics, but I can’t say I’ve personally come across any of that. There was a lot of crap between those two groups in Tudor times as you know. For what point I have no idea. It served nothing, but power and glory. Politics...”
  “So what happened to the temple?” Kia had calmed down now. She wanted to know the whole story, so Jack told her.
  Mary had quite a good day after Kia had left. She got dressed, made another cup of tea, and phoned a friend. They had a good old chat, a put-the-world-to-rights-job, and decided to meet up the next week for a proper chat, and a piece of Battenberg cake. So feeling better she decided to do some gardening.
  The sun shone bright this morning. The birds were singing, and squabbling over the bacon fat that had been put out the previous day. The bees were enjoying the park flowers. Mary had forgotten what they were called, and pretty blue butterflies were all over the buddleia bush. There was peace and quiet all around.
  The weavers, or three fates had been busy spinning slowly, they now increased their pace. So tolerance was to be learnt was it? Jack had already learnt that lesson had he? He should know better than to say that! Wyrd was at work. A universal lesson to be had here was thought.
  A gentle breeze blew down on to Mary’s face, and at the same time coldness quickly swept through Jacks. Someone had walked over his grave, no, he did know better. Oh dear. What had he done wrong?
  Kia liked the gentle warm breeze that blew her hair into her eyes. She brushed the hair away, with the breeze.
  It was such a lovely day Mary decided to go for a walk. The fates laughed.
  Jack suddenly felt cold all over, his adrenalin pumped through his body, and it was powerful and gave him extra strength and confidence. What in Hades was going on? He was still in the park with Kia, when he got very apprehensive. He’d felt like this before, and it was normally not a good sign. Something was up. Something bad was about to happen.
  Mary had decided to go to the park. She didn’t go there to see Kia. She had in fact no idea where she had gone. She’d got some bread to feed the ducks and geese and wanted nothing but a quiet day. No chance.
  Kia was oblivious to Jacks impending plight.
  Mary rounded the corner and immediately saw Jack with Kia.
  Kia waved.
  Mary frowned.
  Jack went into a trance.

   It was pitch black. There was no sound and nothing, to see, nothing to hear. He could have been standing on nothing, except his feet felt something, like electricity. Jack stood still, still nothing, no breeze, no heat, and no cold. He blinked...
  “You do remember Mary don’t you?” Kia was saying.
  Wow, he must have spaced out for a few seconds there, which made him a bit nervous.
  “Yes of course, and how are you Mary?” He asked feigning a smile, that he hoped was convincing. Mary obviously wasn’t convinced and she gave him a look of daggers.
  “I haven’t forgotten the last time we met...Jack.” She gave him another look of venom. She didn’t trust this man as far as she could throw him, and she didn’t understand what had happened at the civic centre, although she hadn’t discussed this at all with Kia. She’d been too frightened. She wanted to put it out of her mind completely.
  “Yeah, I suppose that was a bit strange.”
  “It’s a bit strange,” screamed Mary, who suddenly just flipped. She let her anger show, “I’d like to know what you’re up to? What the blazes happened that day? Why are you spending so much time with Kia?”
  Mary’s sudden outburst embarrassed Kia, who wasn’t sure where now to look. Jack was a bit pale, for some reason, and this wasn’t like Mary at all.
  “Well “demanded Mary.
  “I... I..” stammered Jack.  Mary grabbed Kia by the hand and began to pull her away from him. Kia came to her senses immediately, and now wasn’t embarrassed but very angry. How old did Mary she thinks she was?
  “Mary what the hell do you think you are doing? I‘m old enough to take care of myself, for Gods sake, let go.” She twisted her hand, and Mary was forced to let go.
  “He’s bad news Kia.” She said, almost pleading, her eyes showing the first sighs of tears.  
  “Jacks’ ok.”
  “No he’s not!”
  They both stopped talking. Jack burst out laughing. He was in hysterics.
  “It’s ... It’s...tor...ler...rance!  Of course! Don’t you see? Now I get it. Well there you go. That took me a long time to figure out. I must be getting old! You learn by teaching, but I’m still not really sure what I’ve done wrong... I’ll have to think about that.” Jack had been saying this to himself really, not bothering with the two women, who had no idea what he was talking about. It hardly reassured Mary, who now thought there might be something medically wrong with Jack.
  A gentle breeze played across his face. It was warm and it felt good. A lone strand brushed his cheek, like a spiders’ web.
  “I’m worried Kia. “ She ignored Jack. “Are you coming to church still on Sunday?”
  “Yes, of course.” She wondered why Mary would ask her that.
  Why wouldn’t she be going to church? Just because Jack was teaching her historical stuff!  Mary looked relieved, and then hugged her. The letter slipped to the floor, she picked it up and looked at it. The face-of-thunder came back she glared at Jack, who stammered,
  “I can explain... “
  He didn’t get any further, as Mary slapped him in the face.
  “Kia, home now” She whispered, almost unable to control her temper. “I do not want you seeing this...man ever again!”
  Kia, to her credit, held her ground. She slowly took the letter back and carefully folding it up, she said,
  “Jack was teaching me tolerance. I think now I understand.”
  Her voice was small and calm, “He’s a good teacher Mary, and I’m going to see him when-ever I want. I’m not going to stop going to church, I know that’s important to you, but I’m enjoying this. I’m learning stuff, so don’t try to stop me please. Jacks’ beliefs are so different to ours, but our beliefs can be strange to him in return, but he doesn’t mind if we think differently, can we say the same?”

   Jack smiled. Kia had learnt the lesson well. He’d also been given a lesson, which was great. Oh yes, he’d figured it out. As he looked down on the ground he saw a twig in the shape of the rune Thorn.
  Mary wasn’t so happy. She’d lost this contest, for that was how it felt to her. As she got up to leave, she stepped on the              shaped twig, Jack heard it snap, and flinched, but said nothing. His over-confidence had made him take a fall. The warning had been there...was that why he had seen the blackness? That didn’t make sense...No, that wasn’t the connection, he was sure about that. It was something else.
  Warnings, he could teach Kia that, always handy to know.
  In the silence that followed Marys exit, he thought of the old folklore warning about the crow. If it carkkkkeeddd five times, it meant that a death was near. Birds were thought to foretell deaths, births, them being messengers for  the gods, he supposed that’s where that idea came from, That was an old belief of course, as old as time. Odin had ravens, two. Morrigan too, the Greeks loved owls, a symbol of knowledge, hence the old phrase, old wise owl. Then for some unknown reason, Jack started thinking of Manannan, the Celtic sea-God, apparently, the original owner of the Goblet of Truth. He was always looking for that, was Jack, knowledge and truth. Maybe that had something to do with the darkness...Why else would that suddenly pop into his head?
  “Arh, look at that. It looks like the boys made it himself.” She pointed to a little boy with his granddad by the water, they were sailing a little blue boat. Jack thanked the Gods for the confirmation, in silence. That was Manannans sign; a boat and sometimes a wave. He smiled, even though his face still stung. He decided quickly to re-live the slap in the face, to remember the moment, so that by going back, he could leave himself a warning from the present to the past. No time exists. Very Celtic!
  Kia had been talking for about twenty seconds before Jack realised. The mouth was moving but he had heard no sound. He suddenly realised, his mind had been elsewhere.
  “Sorry,” he mumbled, “miles away with fairies.”
  “I just asked what my next lesson is.”
  “What do you want to know?”
  “Everything, “she said, beaming.
  “Pope Gregory made the decision that priests should not marry. Francis of Assisi invented the Nativity, the Christmas crib. The golden ration is 1:1.618. London Bridge is falling down, is about a Viking attack, Sirius the brightest star in the sky has the old name of Sothis, in the Sothic cycle, its magic dog star to Orion; it orbits every 1460 years, a new aeon.  In the book of Maccabees as I call it, the prophet Jeremiah wept at the dissolution of Jerusalem. Heidi, a creation myth, has 72 Adams, worship Melek, Moloch, and a peacock god with a thousand eyes. In the book of Revelations the descriptions are of angels, but are written as animals and birds... how very Egyptian! Adam and Eve went to Haran after being kicked out of the Garden of Eden. Asag is a Sumerian demon who causes sickness. Valley of Gehenna is the valley of the shadow of death, look at the psalms.... Adramalach is a demon of justice, Lilith the maid of desolation. Likes wind and birds, and both Job, (pronounced Jobe) and Abraham were born in Urfa, (Ur), and the original city in the book of Genesis.
  The Hebrew has a lovely curse... a prayer called the Pulsa Dinura, an Aramaic hex of the dessert. It’s in the Talmud. How to summon the angel of destruction, the flame...
  I’m sorry, I need to leave it for today, and my head is spinning.”
  Kia had sat looking flabbergasted as Jack had said that lot without taking a breath.
  “OK.” She said, and felt terrible. She wondered if it was because of her or Mary. Jack had not come across as being very happy, and she didn’t want to push it. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, give the guy a break. Let him have some space. The slap on the face was probably a sore point too. In more ways than one!
  “So I’ll see you tomorrow than?” She asked softly.
  “Yeah, the usual place, the coffee shop, the usual time.”
  He apologised again, but he didn’t feel all that good. Something bad was coming.
  As he left the park a crow crawweedd and Jack counted. One... two... three...four... Good he thought.
  It wasn’t late in the day yet barely past lunch time, but by the time Jack had got home he felt exhausted. He had to go and lay down. This wasn’t like him, normally he was full of the earth’s energy, but now he just felt completely drained. Last night’s antics, he thought. He expected another, fight, but not so soon. This time he had been caught off guard.... Oh cripes! Of course! Dreams and Dragons, he should have realised. Too late now....
  He yawned again and again, as he climbed the stairs’, he lay down on his bed, and was asleep, deeply asleep within a few seconds.

   He was suspended. He seemed huge. His mind that is, it spanned the entire universe. It was a very strange feeling, but one he had had often, in his dreams, sometimes at that point just before going to sleep, a kind of day-dream. He knew he was dreaming, and just drank the sensation in. It was the universe. If he’d been asked to explain these dreams, he’d have found it hard. He stood on nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing, and yet he knew his existence was supernova in size. It was like being the size of the old Zeus, in the old 1960’s films. Hollywood movies, actually he was in fact bigger.
  It was like... this is what it is... so just enjoy.  They went the other way too, and he’d feel really tiny, in a very big universe, again, just Jack, and the darkness, but not absolute darkness, in space. Both were very weird, but comforting also. He didn’t seem to have a body, yet he was whole.
  He had nick-named these dreams, his “dark-heart” dreams, like the heart of a black-hole. It made sense to him.
  No sound, no time, but then in a black-hole he would be  stretched, pulled apart, pulled in, into the centre, time would appear to stop, yet he would be hurtling to the centre,  what would he find, another side, like a coin, a white-hole, a different universe, a big-bang?
  Jack’s bible was the NLT. He remembered reading Genesis 1 v2... The earth was empty, a formless mass, cloaked in darkness, and the spirit of God hovered about over the darkness. Then God said, “Let there be light” and there was light, he said it was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. Or words to that effect, he thought how like it sounded to a black-hole, and a quasar, this is pronounced kway-sah by the way. Some send out powerful radio waves, one quasar could send out more energy than a hundred galaxies, could they contain black holes? How did the ancients know about them, because they did! Was that why they were so absorbed in tracking the moon? What comes out of it.... ask a theory-physisist. Jack thought that sounded like a black-hole, the beginning of life, super explosion of planets, and out of chaos came life!    The dream ended. His mind instantly normal, he missed these dreams when they left him, it was so strange that something so simple could be so profound.  He remembered Kia talking about the shock-wave she thought she had seen, an explosion, just like the death of a star. Were the two connected? We are made of stars. Everything is connected.
  His second dream wasn’t so good.
  Kia had not been feeling great either. Mary had stormed off in a huff, Jack had left in a strange mood, she wasn’t sure about him, and she felt empty and a little hurt, and totally alone. She walked round the park, seeing nothing, wondering how she was going to put everything right. But she didn’t understand what it was that was so wrong.
  Normally the park cheered her up. She would sit by the water and watch the birds, or gaze up at the trees, taking pleasure of all that nature had to offer. Today, however, dark clouds had gathered in her thoughts, and her heart was heavy.
  A bird had landed by her feet. She stared at the bird and moved on.
  She brought herself a coffee, (to go), and went and sat on a bench. She was alone, in spirit and in reality. No-one was around.
  She sipped her coffee thinking of Mary. She’d never seen her like that before, when suddenly she felt herself surrounded inside a bubble of yellow/white light. .She couldn’t see it physically but it was fantastic, because within this bubble she felt pure love. Not human love, this was concentrated, powerful, non-sexual, but so magnificent. She sat there, a massive smile on her lips, as she knew she was loved. Properly loved, and the feeling was so intense, as if was from God himself. Words could not describe how wonderful this was. This feeling lasted about two minutes, then disappeared as suddenly as it had come, the inner light vision faded at the same moment, as did the feeling of being alone, she was never to feel alone ever again. The emptiness inside her had been quashed forever.

   She now understood that passage in the bible and she thought it came from there, when someone once said you wanted to shout from the rooftops when you received Gods love... That’s how she felt. She didn’t shout. She sipped her coffee.

   Mary had returned to her garden, at the same time Kia was surrounded with love. A cloud covered the sun momentarily Mary gazed up into the sky. The cloud moved on, the sun returned. She suddenly knew what she must do.
  “Thank-you” She said to the sky.
  The forest was dense. The trees grew close together, so much so, that it could have been either day or night and you wouldn’t have known which. It made no difference to Jack. It was twilight. The moon above him glared down, she wasn’t happy, the clouds were masking her silvery brilliance, but wind blew up, and breathed them away. Moon was happier now, as was the stars that now shone brightly. Silver threads cast down among trees, sending them into a strange colour, part green, and part silver. They looked magical.
  Jack glimpsed some of this now, and looked at the beauty of this light, the wild light he called it. To him it gave the impression of childish wonderment, a secret light, not meant to be witnessed just by anyone.
  The trees moved gently in the breeze, their leaves making an eerie, silent dance, with quick movements catching his eye. Moths, fluttering around the clearing, there wasn’t that many in this bit of the forest, but occasionally bats would swoop in to feed.
  An owl flew onto a branch a little way ahead. Jack caught a quick glance of it, and then lost it as it was swallowed up in the foliage. He moved on. Fox ran past him, a little distance away, and Jack thought he could also hear the feint rustling of a hedgehog in the fallen leaves. Now the sound of a brook could be heard. He headed towards the noise of water.
  He bent down, cupped his hands and dipped them into the cool running water. He lifted his hands and drank. The water tasted sweet and clear. Not like today, with all the pollution. A fish darted past him.
  In his reflection, he saw his face, but beside that was a stag. He looked up, the stag didn’t move. He lowered his hands and drank again. When Jack looked again at the reflection, it was a man there besides him.
  “Hast thou fresh?” The man asked and Jack smiled, this was the old way of asking if he knew of any gossip.
  “Not much to tell.”
  “Follow.” The man gently commanded.
  Jack jumped over the brook, easily and joined the man, the pace of walking now being a gentle jog, which turned into a run, then got faster, as both Jack and the man were now stags, leaping through the forest.
  They leaped over fallen logs, through pathways, old beer cans, and bounded faster and faster through the trees, the crisp packets rustling on the ground as the hooves rushed past. Stag was fast, nimble, territorial, and holds his ground, a creature of habit and a night-time feeder, an animal of the moon, like the hare. Stag has his own pathways, unlike man who is yet to find his.
  Faster and faster they ran, but now as foxes. Fox is free, unpredictable. Foxes smell too...and leave a strong scent, so that man with dogs can pursue them very easily, but in turn they have one of the best noses themselves. They are playful, wary, good parents, good climbers. Not that Jack wanted to climb; he was elated, full of energy, full of delight.
  They slowed after a while, became badger. Badgers accelerate surprisingly quickly if startled. They are meticulous, keep a good home, change his bedding and don’t leave food everywhere, unlike fox. He is forever digging, and a hard worker, and strong. He isn’t a good timekeeper though, but he misjudges time now and again, and can end up bunking down elsewhere from his sett for the day. Even though they do like the sun, his is of the moon.
  Jack and the man moved on from the form of badger to bear.
  They slowed down more and walked through the trees smelling the scents. Jack felt the animals’ strength, he looked at his claws, and he felt very much like climbing now, so he did.
  The tree was easy, the climb quick, the smells tantalising. Jack looked into the eyes of an owl, and suddenly screeched, as he had been taken by surprise, and took flight, his wings spreading wide.
  Up and up they soared, powerful beatings, his wings sleek, catching the wind, he twisted and turned, and soared at great speed higher and higher, the coldness not effecting him in the least. He was not owl he was a king’s bird, Falcon.
  They rode the thermals, they road sky, the moon playing on their backs. Fast and fleet is falcon, a bird of the sun.  He suddenly plummeting down and down, and down and down, faster and faster, streamline, straight into a river. The cold water hit Jack full in the face, but with hardly a splash. He sank deep into the wetness, his scales protecting him from this cold too. He swam upstream against the current, his smooth scales breathing, the gills working as lungs. Wise is the salmon. Look up Fionn mac Cumhaill, of the land of the Goddess Eriu, that’s Ireland.
  Behind Jack, raced a pike, but didn’t attack. It then slowly crept nearer and nearer, so as to not frighten the fish away. Pike is aggressive, predatory, Jack who was in the form of a young alevin, darted quickly to avoid the jaws of this terrible threat. The pike was quick, Jack sensed the immediate danger, sensed the current of the waters, and made a dash forward, the pike closer behind now. With a sudden burst of energy he leapt upwards onto the bank. He drew breath in quickly, trying to get used to lungs again. He lay face-down in the wet grass, and breathed heavily for a time. The change from water to air had been a little too quick he hadn’t prepared his mind for the change. He rolled onto his back, and saw the man peering down at him. They laughed.

   A little while later, they had collected dead wood, and built a nice little fire, they sat besides this now.
  Fire flickered, and the ash and oak gave a wanted heat, ash being good firewood, and oak being a slow burner. They were outside, they could have chosen many wood, Alder too would have been good, but never to be burned indoors, it being extremely unlucky because of the connection of the hag-goddess.
  Fire drew Jack close to it, he gazed at Fire, who  wanted to heat his blood, and dry his skin...It’s flames leaped high as the man poked air into fire, as he done this the man mumbled something under his breath, he was talking to the elements.
  Jack got up, feeling chilled, shivered and walked forward. He sat down next to the man, neither spoke. The man put the poking stick into the fire then grabbed a bag that had been placed at his feet. He drew out a leather flask and handed this drink to Jack.
  “This honey-beer will warm thee.”
  “Thanks.” Jack took a big swig and handed the flask back.
  “Tis’ welcome.” The man drank. Silence entered the air. Jack felt ill at ease but it had nothing to do with the man. They were friends. This was a warning inside him. He feared this feeling as it had been confirmed by the pike. What was going to happen would happen whether he wanted it to or not, he needed the tools to fight, that was why he was where he was now, with his guide.
  The man was wild- wood, green energy, the hunt. He had been called Cernunnos, Herne, Diana even, and Jack, Jack-in-green, a robin hood. Jack wore his symbol...him. It could get confusing, especially when you think of Callirius, a woodland god, a stag, associated with the hazel tree. Jack thought it wasn’t so clear cut as that. Are the Gods only one thing? That would make them less than us humans surly?
  “Can we talk normally?” Jack asked Jack.
  “Of course,” he said,” I just fancied talking a bit old that’s all”.
  “Well its ok, just a bit annoying”.
  This conversation now could get a bit confusing, so I’ll call Jack, Jack, and the green-man I’ll call the green knight, as in the Arthurian stories, though there are a lot of similarities, so....
  “I presume you saw the threat?” The green knight asked Jack.
  “The pike was the symbol. I love doing the Merlin sprint.” This is what they had nick-named what they had just done, the changing forms. From human to birds and animals, anything that breathed. This was old. Like the Berserker of the Norse myths, they were not myths really, but could explain the were-wolves legends, that were older than the Vikings too of course. Old as man, when we tried to become the animals we hunted, to ensure a good hunt so we would not starve. Or the Drui, or the skin-walkers, again these are really old. A relic was the horn-dance that we say is like Morris dancing, if you get my drift. Did our ancestors not do the same before hunting, with antlers on their heads, to become the animal, dancing round the fire, when we belonged to the moon and not the sun, when we humans were hunters, and not farmers? Then after the kill, would we not honour that animal, in its death, which without it we would die?
  The green knight, man, was cooking meat on a make-shift pit over fire. It smelt good. Boar it looked like. Its meat is really strong, a real meat taste. The green-knight, spoke into the fire, he thanked the animal, therefore giving it an honourable death, the chase and fight had been good, Jack hadn’t seen that. His guide had done that much earlier, as preparation for this night.
  “The pike is a real threat.”
  “In what form will this threat take?” Jack asked.
  “You need to ask?” Asked the green-knight a little puzzled. “Your old enemy of course, oh I see, you thought it was something to do with the women?” He laughed.
  “Well yeah, as a matter of fact.”
  “I think ones’ on your mind a little too much, else you wouldn’t have made such an easy mistake...No, and they are not a threat, why on earth would they be? I suppose you mean the older one?"
  “Mary.”
  “Mary is good. Her heart is good.....now eat friend.” With that he got up and began to carve the meat. This had been Boar. He passed a bit to Jack.  It tasted great, delicious and very meaty. Jack gave thanks and ate eagerly.
  “It’s time to leave. Heed the warning of the pike, and to take up my challange.”
  After the green-knight had left, Jack stayed in the woods finishing off the drink and boar. Well not all of it, he wasn’t that greedy, but a little bit more. He was left alone. No animal scavenged, even the wolves stayed in the distance, they would have their fill later, Jack would leave them some, and he normally did. The crow waited above his head, he wanted the boars eyes and became a little impatient as Jack started singing,  an old song about a poacher, the crow wondered, in it’s own way, when was the man going to leave. He hoped it would be soon, and hopped along the branch, nearer, just to let the human know he was there and waiting.
  The beer was beginning to take effect.  Jack rose to his feet and immediately regretted his action. His head spun and for a second he thought he was going to fall over, but he righted himself, tested his legs and slowly walked out of the woods, his mind travelling back into his body, which was sound asleep in his bed.
  He awoke several hours later with a bad hang-over.
  What he needed was some positive energy. He didn’t need to time-travel, no more negative energy required then. This is not science fiction, it’s clever, cosmic clever. Read a book of quantum physics, the laws can always be manipulated. Jack knew how, it was all to do with the black-holes again, but we are made of the stars. All is connected.

Chapter 9 to be published asap.