Stonehenge: A Novel of 2000 BC. Bernard Cornwell

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СКАЧАТЬ women about Slaol’s temple. Saban did not run with the bull men, though he could have, but instead he sat with Derrewyn and, as the fires died, they jumped the flames hand in hand. Gilan dispensed the liquor brewed for the night’s celebrations; some folk screamed as they saw visions, while others became belligerent or ill, but eventually they slept, except Saban, who stayed awake, for Jegar had been drunkenly searching for him with a spear in his left hand and revenge on his liquor-fuddled mind. Saban stayed close to the temple that night, sitting guard over the sleeping Derrewyn, though he dozed towards morning when he was woken by footfalls and quickly lifted his spear. A man was coming up the path from the settlement and Saban crouched, ready to lunge, then saw the reflection of dying firelight glint from the man’s bald head and realized it was Gilan, not Jegar.

      ‘Who’s that?’ the high priest asked.

      ‘Saban.’

      ‘You can help me,’ Gilan said cheerfully. ‘I need a helper. I was going to ask Neel, but he’s sleeping like a dog.’

      Saban woke Derrewyn and the two of them walked with Gilan to the Old Temple. It was the year’s shortest night and Gilan kept glancing at the north-eastern horizon for fear that the sun would rise before he reached the Old Temple. ‘I need to mark the rising sun,’ he explained as they passed through the grave mounds. He bowed to the ancestors, then hurried on to where the eight stones waited on their sledges just outside the Old Temple’s ditch. The north-eastern sky was perceptibly lightening, but the sun had yet to blaze across the far wooded hills. ‘We need some markers,’ Gilan said, and Saban went down into the ditch and found a half-dozen large lumps of chalk, then he stood in the entrance causeway while Gilan went to the stake that marked the temple’s centre. Derrewyn, forbidden to enter the temple because she was a woman, waited between the ditches and banks of the newly cut sacred path.

      Saban turned to face the north-east. The horizon was shadowy and the hills in front of it were grey and sifted with the smoke from the dying midsummer fires that rose from Ratharryn’s valley. The cattle on the nearer slopes were white ghostly shapes.

      ‘Soon,’ Gilan said, ‘soon,’ and he prayed that the scatter of clouds on the horizon would not hide the sun’s rising.

      The clouds turned pink and the pink deepened and spread, becoming red, and Saban, watching where the blazing sky touched the jet black earth, saw a gap of sky above the trees and suddenly there was a fierce brightness in those distant woods as the sun’s upper edge slashed through the leaves.

      ‘To your left!’ Gilan called. ‘Your left. One pace. No, back! There! There!’

      Saban placed a chalk marker at his feet, then stood to watch the sun chase away the stars. At first Slaol appeared like a flattened ball that leaked an ooze of fire along the wooded ridge, and then the red turned to white, too fierce for the eyes, and the first light of the new year shone straight along the new sacred path that led to the Old Temple’s entrance. Saban shaded his eyes and watched the night shadows shrink in the valleys. ‘To your right!’ Gilan called. ‘To your right!’ He made Saban place another marker at the spot where the sun was at last wholly visible above the horizon, and then he waited until the sun just showed above Saban’s head and made him place a third marker. The sound of the tribe singing its welcome to the sun came gently across the grass.

      Gilan examined the markers Saban had laid and grunted happily when he saw that some of the old posts which had decayed in their sockets had evidently marked the same alignments. ‘We did a good job,’ he said approvingly.

      ‘What do we do next?’ Saban asked.

      Gilan gestured either side of the temple’s entrance. ‘We’ll plant two of the larger stones here as a gate,’ he said, then pointed to where Derrewyn stood in the sacred path, ‘and put the other two there to frame the sun’s midsummer rising.’

      ‘And the four smaller stones?’ Saban asked.

      ‘They’ll mark Lahanna’s wanderings,’ the priest answered, and pointed across the river valley. ‘We’ll show where she appears farthest to the south,’ he said, then turned and gestured in the opposite direction, ‘and where she vanishes in the north.’ Gilan’s face seemed to glow with happiness in the early light. ‘It will be a simple temple,’ he said softly, ‘but beautiful. Very beautiful. One line for Slaol and two for Lahanna, marking a place where they can meet beneath the sky.’

      ‘But they’re estranged,’ Saban said.

      Gilan laughed. He was a kindly man, portly and bald, who had never shared Hirac’s fear of offending the gods. ‘We have to balance Slaol and Lahanna,’ he explained. ‘They already have a temple apiece in Ratharryn, so how will Lahanna feel if we give Slaol a second shrine all of his own?’ He left that question unanswered. ‘And we were wrong, I think, to keep Slaol and Lahanna apart. At Cathallo they use one shrine for all the gods, so why shouldn’t we worship Slaol and Lahanna in one place?’

      ‘But it’s still a temple to Slaol?’ Saban asked anxiously, remembering how the sun god had helped him at the beginning of his ordeal.

      ‘It’s still a temple to Slaol,’ Gilan agreed, ‘but now it will acknowledge Lahanna too, just like the shrine at Cathallo.’ He smiled. ‘And at its dedication we shall marry you to Derrewyn as a foretaste of Slaol and Lahanna’s reunion.’

      The sun was high enough to give its warmth as the three walked back to the settlement. Gilan talked of his hopes, Saban held his lover’s hand, the smoke of the midsummer fires faded and all was well in Ratharryn.

      Galeth was the temple’s builder, and Saban became his helper. They placed the four smaller boulders first. Gilan had calculated the positions for the stones, and they had to be placed by calculation rather than by observation for the four stones formed two pairs and each pair pointed towards Lahanna. In her wanderings about the sky, she stayed within the same broad belt year after year, but once in a man’s lifetime she went far to the north and once in a lifetime far to the south. The poles in her existing temple inside the settlement marked the limits of those northern and southern wanderings and if a man drew a line between the points on the horizon where the moon rose and set at her extremes it would cross the line of the sun’s midsummer rising at a right angle. That made Gilan’s task simple. ‘It isn’t so everywhere,’ he explained to Saban. ‘It’s only here in Ratharryn that the lines cross square. Not at Drewenna, not at Cathallo, nowhere else! Only here!’ Gilan was in awe of that fact. ‘It means we are special to the gods,’ he said softly. ‘It means, I think, that this is the very centre of all the world!’

      ‘Truly?’ Saban asked, impressed.

      ‘Truly,’ Gilan said. ‘Cathallo, of course, say the same about their Sacred Mound, but I fear they’re mistaken. This is the world’s centre,’ he said, gesturing at the Old Temple, ‘the very place where man was first made.’ He shuddered at that thought, moved by the joy of it.

      The high priest then laid a nettle string along the line of midsummer’s rising, taking it from the chalk marker which showed where the sun rose, through the very centre of the temple and on to the south-eastern bank. Galeth had jointed two pieces of thin timber to make a square angle and, by laying the timber against the string, and then running another string along the crosswise timber, they could mark a line that crossed the sun’s line at a right angle. That new line pointed to the extremes of the moon’s wandering, but Gilan wanted two parallel lines, one to point to the northernmost limit and the other to the southernmost, so he drew his second line and told Galeth that the four small stones must be placed inside the bank at the outer ends of both scratched lines. One of each pair was to be a pillar and the other a slab, and by standing beside the pillar СКАЧАТЬ