Friday 5 October 2018

Caled-Sol and the ‘National Declaration’.


Archdruid carrying the Great Sword of Wales into the Gorsedd.
Today and during the primary ceremony of the world renown ‘Eisteddfod’ of Wales, the Archdruid and the members of the Gorsedd of Bards, gather together on the Eisteddfod stage in their ceremonial robes. When the Archdruid reveals the identity of the winning poet who wins this year’s seat of the ‘Bard’, the ‘Corn Gwlad’ (The nation’s horn) calls the people together and the Gorsedd Prayer is then chanted by all. The Archdruid then reverentially half-draws the massive sword-of-Wales from its sheath three times. Each time he part-draws the glittering blade, he cries ‘Is there peace?’, to which the assembly reply; ‘Peace’.
The Horn of Plenty is presented to the Archdruid then by a young, local and married woman who urges him to drink the ‘wine of welcome’. A young girl presents him with a basket of ‘flowers from the land and soil of Wales’ and a floral dance is performed around him, based on an ancient pattern of flower gathering from the fields. The Gorsedd ceremonies are unique to Wales and the National Eisteddfod, reflecting a culture and tradition that stretches back millennia. The modern-day declaration of peace has been toned-down from the stark choice of Peace or War in historic times and my fictional piece which follows, describes how I think the earliest of these ceremonies may have unfolded.
Caled-Sol (hard-sunlight) Belenos Hên's ancient, sacred sword which took the head of Bran the great 500 years before this fictional ceremony.

Two cornwr began to blow the familiar notes of assembly then and all attention was brought back to the blackened clearing, now emptied of the celebrating royal families. HênDdu stood grimly in front of his altar in the dead centre of this circular, spiritual porthole of blackened grass and his three supporting Druids took their positions behind him, for the most vital and final part of this historic assembly.
“Now draw near all who consider themselves honourable Prydeinig and who have an abiding love of our sacred islands of Prydein!” HênDdu called out, his strange voice somehow carrying to every corner of this huge plain and the people closed-in with the tension mounting, as the ultimate ritual drew near. The Arch-Druid Einion turned and lifted Belenos Hên’s sacred and ancient, spirit-wreathed sword Caled-Sol reverentially from the blood-splashed altar and passed it with a curt bow to his master. HênDdu’s face became animated as he took the iconic sword and turning back to the crowd with it outstretched before him, he presented the most revered blade in all Prydein’s long history with a savage pride.
The sun-sculpted and utterly beautiful, bronze scabbard had been polished until it shone like old gold and the Druid held it in his left hand, the fingers of his right fastened around the sharkskin grip of the sun-adorned pommel and he raised ‘hard-sunlight’ to the heavens.
“Now draw near all our honoured and much-worshipped Deities, who so also love these scared isles of Prydein to witness our great Datganiad Gwladol!” He called loudly before turning and presenting this sacred, legendary sword to all four corners of the world and to all who watched with bated-breath. HênDdu then slowly part-drew the polished steel blade before lifting his noble head and his tonsured brow glistened in the torchlight but it was utterly outshone, by the vital gleam from just the first six glittering inches of honed steel revealed.
“'Y gwir yn erbyn y byd, a oes heddwch neu rhyfel?” HênDdu asked them loudly with a scowl and his challenge boomed out over the multitude of heads and shining eyes gazing back at him. ‘The truth against the world, is there peace or war?’ he demanded to know, and the response was like a clap of thunder;
“RHYFEL!” 
Birds squawked and flapped in fright and the dogs of the distant Tref could be heard barking and howling at the thunderous sound, which seemed to vibrate in the air for long moments. The Brif-Druid stalked around his altar now in his bare and blackened feet, energised by this first declaration of war and he paced this scorched saucer of earth, holding up the great part-drawn sword. His eyes blazed with challenge and the front circle backed away in fear as he withdrew another twelve inches of etched and polished steel and hard shards of torchlight bounced off Caled-Sol in alarm.
“Calon wrth galon, a oes heddwch neu rhyfel?” ‘Heart to heart, is there peace or war?’ he challenged them again now, his tremulous but uncannily powerful voice carrying to even the outer fringes of this vast gathering and the people shook the earth again with their sacred oath.
“RHYFEL!”
HênDdu smiled then horribly in a kind of spirit-gripped rictus, as his voice deepened and grew as it lashed across the heads of these people, whilst their dogs continued their barking and eerie howling from the distant Tref.
“Gwaedd uwch adwaedd, a oes heddwch neu rhyfel?” He demanded of them lastly, with a wild look in his blazing eyes and spittle flying from his twisted mouth. ‘Shout above responding shout, is there peace or war?’ He demanded they complete the rite and the very air shook with the inviolate declaration of war, as thousands of voices screamed as one;
“RHYFEL!”
The Druid came back around to the front of his altar now and HênDdu’s face was a mask of fierce, blazing outrage as he fully withdrew Caled-Sol the fabulous blade of Belenos Hên, which had claimed the mighty head of Bran himself five centuries ago. He held it aloft, so the torchlight flashed off the full glorious length of its deadly blade and illuminating on it, the wondrous chasing with pure golden swirls and all eyes were drawn to its stark, terrible beauty.
“Ia, oes RHYFEL!” HênDdu confirmed loudly and war was thus declared on Rome.
The bedlam that ensued was a religious, superstitious explosion of emotions and the ground shook as the triadic warriors of Prydein hysterically screamed their warcries, drowning all other sounds, even the terrified howling of the dogs. The drums began to pound a frenetic beat again, the horns bellowed and the Brythons danced their dance of death, as the northern kingdoms finally united in a sacred Triad for the first time ever, were going to war.
Undeb - triadic unity!



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