Through the Circle
by Tala Bar © 2007
I
The Circle appeared before Finbar's eyes unexpectedly. The Minstrel had been walking the whole day in a hot, dry weather; at mid-day, having taken a long draught from his water bottle, he climbed a low hill, and gazed at the wide valley that opened before his eyes on the other side. Green patches promised the possible proximity of water, and he rushed down the hill toward them. He arrived at some tall reeds and parting them, looked with relief at the small brook that flowed there, hidden among the rushes. He kneeled down to drink, sprayed his hot face and filled his bottle, and only then he stood up and looked around him. The patches of green were bunches of tall reed and high grass, through which flowed that meandering stream, its water sparkling in flushes of blue with dots of gold from the sun rays. Then Finbar noticed a tall rock standing upright among the green; wondering for a moment at its incongruous appearance, and sending a searching look beyond it, Finbar saw that this rock was not the only one. Another upright stone was standing not far from the first, and another and another. At last, he spotted a whole circle of such tall rocks looming from the flat land of the valley.
The Minstrel pondered on that phenomenon that had appeared before his eyes. In his much traveling, he had heard mentioned here and there of such stone circles; but, not only he had never seen it with his own eyes, he had also never learned about its purpose or meaning, either from the writings of fables and myths from which he had drawn many of his stories, or from local gossip and anecdotes. Now, as he saw it himself, he thought it was up to him to find out all he could about it.
Slowly, the Minstrel advanced toward one of the stones. There was very little life in the valley; the season of bird nesting had been long over, and no chirping was heard. Some sparrows flew among the rushes, and a larger bird of prey hovered in the sky; a very light breeze barely touched the reed tops making them sway and wiping the sweat off the Minstrel's face. Otherwise, the world was almost standing still, waiting for Finbar to act. He arrived at the northernmost stone of the circle and stopped, the sunrays hitting his eyes. He had put up his hand to shade them when a sense of magic touched him from the direction of the circle, and he hesitated before entering it. Was there really something special about such construction, so different from anything he had ever known or seen?
A light cloud passed over the sun, and the Minstrel removed his hand from his eyes. He made a few more paces, reached the stone and touched it lightly; another step and he was inside the circle...
II
“Here you are,” a woman's voice addressed Finbar; “you know we couldn't have started without you.”
“Started what?” he asked in amazement, and thought, ‘Where have all these people come from?'
Indeed, the circle was crowded with people, all dressed in gaudy clothes, shouting with words he could not understand. The woman who had spoken to him stood out as if she was their leader; she was tall and majestic, dressed in a mauve color robe and wearing a colorful crown on her dark red hair. “It's time for Midsummer sacrifice, and the prophecy claimed you were going to attend this time.”
“Me?”
“Aren't you Finbar the Minstrel? There you are, then, it was you we've been waiting for. Now, take this knife and cut the victim's throat. That will dedicate you to the Goddess, whom you've been worshipping all your life!”
“Indeed, I don't know what you're talking about! Me, cut a victim's throat? I'd rather die myself!”
“Very well, then, he will cut yours, although that was not the occasion we've expected. But there is no difference to me, you know, one of you must die at this hour!”
“No! You can't do that! I'm only here by accident!” the Minstrel cried out. Indeed, he was never a real hero, only a teller of tale and a singer of songs. Who was he to be a victim at Midsummer?
“Then, be a hero for once, and cut his throat! Now! Take that knife in your hand! That's it! Do it, now!”
She was leading him by the hand. He had shut his eyes from fright and alarm, but the woman held his hand tight and led it to the spot. He felt it hit, and a hot gush splashed in his face. Opening his eyes, the whole world had turned red around him. Blinded and feeling faint, Finbar suddenly felt himself all alone in the circle. The celebrants were gone, as were the woman and the victim. He sat down on the ground beside the upright rock, his heart beating fast and his thoughts in a swirl.
III
Under the hot, midday sun, the Minstrel had fallen asleep. When he woke up, the sun was sinking in the west. Opposite, in the east, a round full moon appeared; the combination of rays from the setting sun and the rising moon fell on the westernmost stone, crowning it with a soft, silver glow. Finbar rose to his feet and, as if compelled by an unseen force, walked toward that upright rock. The circle was filled with people again, all dressed in gray and black, and as he walked through them to reach the westerly stone, they cleared the way for him. When he reached that stone, he was astonished to see a wide stretch of water open beyond it; he was absolutely certain there could be no such stretch of water where they were – certainly not anything that looked more like the sea than a lake.
“There you are,” he heard the same voice again, and the majestic woman appeared before his eyes, dressed in dark blue with many stars shining all over her robe. The crown on her head glowed silver, and she was holding a torch in her hand.
“What is going on here?” he asked, his voice hoarse from worry. On the water before him, not far from the shore, a highly decorated boat was floating, and in it lay the figure of a man.
“What is he doing there?” he asked the woman, and then added, “and who is he, anyway?”
“He is your victim, remember?” she answered, handing out the torch to him. “Here, you must complete your task now, and set fire to the boat.”
“Set fire to the body of a man? Are you crazy?”
“He must burn you know; otherwise, his soul will never reach heaven?” she insisted. “Here, take it!”
Her voice was as compelling as ever and Finbar felt he had no choice; but as he had taken the torch, he stood there, frustrated, unable to move.
“Come, we'll do it together,” she said, taking his arm and pulling him toward the boat on the water. They waded through the shallows to reach it and the woman, still pulling at the Minstrel's arm, directed it toward the boat's single sail. It immediately caught fire and they retreated. Finbar watched in silence.
The boat, wrapped in flames, started sailing by itself toward the sinking sun. As it burned, silvery smoke rose from the fire and filled the air with its thick, sweet smell. It stung the Minstrel's eyes and obscured his sight. Nodding on his feet and tired from the day's events and impressions, Finbar dropped to the ground and shut his eyes. Unheeding the sight of the vanishing crowd, he slept alone in the circle of upright stones.
IV
The first ray of the rising sun fell on Finbar eyelids and woke him up. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, wondering about what was happening inside the circle. A distant upright stone on the eastern side of the circle was touched by a golden ray shining like a jewel and beckoning to Finbar. He started walking toward the easternmost rock, and by the time he reached it, the sun was over the horizon, promising another clear and hot day.
Drawing near the upright stone, he saw at its foot a shallow dig covered with golden straw; on it lay a woman, obviously in labor. She was stark naked, her skin gleaming blinding white. Some women were attending to her, caressing her body and splashing it with water from the stream; other women helped her spiritually, uttering encouraging and comforting words; still others were busy with her surroundings, seemingly preparing them for the new mother and son.
As Finbar approached, the laboring woman suddenly stopped in her effort and called out to the Minstrel, “There you are! I've been waiting for you, you know the child cannot be born until you are hear to welcome him!” He noticed then that she was the same woman who had helped him killing the victim and in burning his body.
“Will she be all right?” he asked someone next to him, who laughed in his face.
“Here he comes, and they are both in clover, as you can see,” she said, pointing out to a picture of mother and son wrapped in golden halo.
“What now, then?” the Minstrel asked.
“Now, we follow the sun,” the women swung out and arranged themselves in a process. The sun was climbing up in the sky, and they were parading toward the southernmost side of the circle.
Finbar did not know how long they had been walking. It seemed rather a long time to walk from one side to another of a circle that could be viewed in one sweep of the eyes. But many wonderful things had been happening since he had entered it, and he stopped questioning what was going on.
At last, the procession reached the southernmost rock. By that time, Finbar noticed that the child had turned into a boy, then a youth, then a young man that looked very much like the one that had been burned in the boat. As they approached the upright stone, the Minstrel noticed that it had assumed the shape of a throne. On that throne sat now the same majestic woman, looking young and glowing with happiness. She was dressed in red, and a gold crown sat on her dark red hair. As the procession drew near, the stone chair widened up and the woman invited the young man to sit on it.
“Here you are, Finbar, just in time to celebrate our wedding. You are the best man to sing us songs and tell us stories, to make this day the happiest in everyone's life.”
And so he did. As long as the sun was up in the sky – and to his astonishment, it seemed to stay there a long time indeed – Finbar sang his songs and told his stories, while breaking only for some rest and refreshments. At last he grew weary, and a little tipsy from drinking an unusual quantity of wine. His head got dizzy so he shut his eyes; his knees buckled and he fell to the ground, to sleep off the events of the last couple of days.
***
When Finbar woke up the next day, the sky was cloudy and threatening with rain. He sat up and found himself by the northernmost stone again, just outside the circle. ‘Have I ever been inside it?' he asked himself. “But,” he said aloud, “if I haven't, I don't think I'll ever try entering it again.”
He rose, put on his coat and threw the bag over his shoulder. Then he started walking, taking care to go round the circle of upright stones rather than walk through it. ‘Just the same,' he thought, ‘I really have a glorious tale to tell, be it true or a dream I dreamed.'
