The Song of Tarathúr

Acts III, IV and V

Now, Tarathúr must complete her final test alone. In The Witch’s Rune, it is the eve of May. Tarathúr has returned to the high sanctuary at Caer Cleddau, but no light burns there on this night. On this night, a storm rises. No longer a desperate girl, but a formiddable woman, bloodthirsty and battle-ready, Tarathúr has come as the witch to invoke her will. On the altar of the Great Goddess, Tarathúr places the arms she has forged in the dungeons of her castle lair and summons up the power of her ancestral gods. Again, the Mórrígan anwsers Tarathúr’s call. From out of the heavens, a single stroke of lightning rains down, striking the altar and charging the weapons thereupon with divine power.

Tarathúr emerges from Caer Cleddau as a dróttning (war-queen). Her castle rebuilt in her odhal (familial) land, she molds from her blood and ancestral soil an army of undead warriors, from the oceans, great writhing sea serpents, from the air, horrific angels of death, and from fire, terrible black shadows that consume and devour. Now begins Tarathúr’s frightful war. In Crow of War, the fury trumpets a campaign of destruction. Burning her way across the countryside, she razes Xavian’s cities and drives back the Roman sword. But, Tarathúr’s rage is blind and insatiable. Her terrible storm scorches the earth. Albion burns. And, all the world comes to call Tarathúr the Dark Queen.

In the wake of the Dark Queen’s war, the ground smolders. The earth weeps. All the land cries out for the violence visited upon it by the Mórrígan’s champion. In Burning World, Tarathúr has fallen. Consumed with bitterness, she begins to take on the quality of a dragon, quenchless and brutal. The great hope of the world has descended. Into shadow and infamy, Tarathúr casts her name and honor. Yet, there is hope, the Mórrígan promises, where darkest Night meets brightest Day.

This concludes Act Three and Part One of our story.

In Part Two, Tarathúr has come unopposed into Gaul. It is midsummer in Forest of Dreams. On the eve of the Longest Day, the Dark Queen has come upon a great wood. White trees crowned with leaves of gold shine in the summer sun. From out of the forest a brilliance emanates, as if the sun itself shone from within its bound. Tarathúr’s phantom legions shrink from the forest’s light, but Tarathúr, a creature not of the underworld, but of flesh, is not dissuaded. She is, in fact, compelled to enter. The Dark Queen abandons her army and rides alone into the golden wood.

In A Dangerous Meeting, Tarathúr is met by Caben (kay´ben), the prince of this realm. Caben is the son of Niamh (neev), the Lady of the Wood, whose spirit, violated by Xavian, retreated from the world long ago. He is the child of rape. Abandoned by his mother, Caben has grown up in the forest alone. He is an innocent and a narcissist, who knows nothing of the world beyond his mother’s pleasant realm. Here, Caben dreams in a state of perpetual complacency – until the arrival of Tarathúr wakes him from his long sleep.

But, Caben and Tarathúr cannot see beyond each other’s glamours. To Caben, Tarathúr seems fantastical in her armor, girded and dark. Likewise, Tarathúr can see only the light of Caben’s ego, which blinds her to all else. Even the magical “seeing” properties of Tarathúr’s helm cannot pierce its light. The two youths are at an impasse. A contest of words ensues. In a moment of frustration, Tarathúr relents to Caben’s challenge and removes her magical helm that she might “see” with her heart instead of with her magical devices.

In Mirror of My Soul, Tarathúr and Caben at last come face to face. Their true selves revealed to one another, they no longer find in each other opposition, but compliment. A once brilliant haze is replaced by gentle sunshine, and a calm breeze now blows in place of a storm. Over the many days that follow, the two heroes explore the mysteries of one another. Understanding gives birth to friendship, and friendship to love.

At the height of summer, Caben leads Tarathúr into the heart of the forest, where all things bright and beautiful endure forever. Here there is no winter and there is no death. Here the land is evergreen and the trees evergold. Here Caben’s power is greatest. In Final Conquest, the two heroes are at long last overcome by their passion for one another. As Caben unbuckles Tarathúr’s war-girdle and removes her lorica, all of the queen’s immortal strength and protection is stripped away. Defenseless, Tarathúr surrenders her sword and her love to the man who has won them both by his quality. In a circle of golden oaks, Caben and Tarathúr embrace and make love.

This concludes Act Four.

In With These Gifts, it is the morning of Caben and Tarathúr’s union. Tarathúr wakes to find herself in the arms of her lover, a virgin no more, her fierce nature tempered, and her weapons of power cast aside – the blood on her thigh a reminder of the Mórrígan’s gift. Caben, too, transformed, wakes to find his light and beauty reflected in Tarathúr, who has now become his lady. The two exchange gifts as tokens of their love. To Caben, Tarathúr gives her weapons of power and makes Caben a king. To Tarathúr, Caben gives all his wordly treasures and his solemn pledge to defend Tarathúr and her folk, even at the cost of his own life.

Nine years pass in Caben’s magical wood. In this time, Tarathúr bears Caben two children: Arián (âr ee´an), a daughter, and Erin (âr´in), a son. The world beyond her woodland hearth fades from Tarathúr’s cares. Contented with her consort and their children, the once implacable queen all but loses sight of the vengeful oath she took so many years ago. But, with her inner eye, Tarathúr “sees” a world enslaved by the Roman yoke. Xavian has long since anwsered the insurrection that came from the north, and the Heathen tribes have been made to pay a heavy toll for Tarathúr’s warmongering. Responsibility weighs heavily upon Tarathúr’s heart. She and Caben make an arduous choice: they will leave the forest and unite the tribes.

In Imperatrix, Caben and Tarathúr found their nation. Celt, Saxon, German, and Norseman rally under their banner. The Old Faith is restored, and the harrows run red with blood and mead. Under Tarathúr, spells sing and hammers ring, as art and craft are worked once more. Under Caben, their king, the Heathen tribes raise a massive army and launch an assault upon their Roman oppressors. Many great battles are waged, and victories mount for Tarathúr’s folk. Under the growing threat from the north, the Empire begins to shrink. In Rome, Xavian broods and prepares to gather his legions to meet the Heathens in a final contest that will decide the fate of all.

This concludes Act Five.

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