Heramacles' Hope
Lighting a candle against the encroaching darkness, the Lawkeeper smiled at his young apprentice where she was pouring steaming wine into two goblets. She handed his to him and he sat in his favourite chair by the fire and waited for her to get comfortable on the sheepskin rug. The reflected light from the embers made her skin glow golden and once more he was struck by how like her mother - his sister- she had grown to be. He tasted the spiced wine and smiled his approval.
"Now my child, let me hear what you have learnt. Tell me the story of Heramacle's Hope."
"Yes Uncle." The young woman settled herself and began.
There came to be a time of Darkness in Armengar. It was generations since the great Exodus when our ancestors found us this home. They were difficult times and through these difficulties grew many of our customs and traditions - some of which remain today. Some, however, we have since left in the dust. There are many who think them best forgotten, but I tell you this - the mistakes of the past should be forever remembered lest they are repeated.
In those Dark Ages we were forced to find our own way after Heramacles left us. His daughter stood in his place but she too was not long for the world. And so it came to be that as a Protector stood before Armengar, they knew the time would not be long in coming when they would die for Armengar and their pattern would join Heramacles in honour. If they did not die in battle that honour would not be denied them. In the name of Heramacles they were slain by their people and sent to their glory. How frightening that such a tradition could be part of our history! It is not known how long the tradition persisted, but generations came and went until one man noticed how few heirs to Heramacles remained and took it upon himself to change history.
Oidhre felt the calling to serve as a priest of Heramacles from early in his life. The realisation that he could sire no child only made his resolution stronger. He himself was proud to trace his ancestry back to Heramacles and so he committed himself to finding another way in which he could see his family line continue. Now while the Protector of Armengar could be any warrior worthy of such a mantle, it often came to pass that those descendent of the Heramacles line would take this role. And so Oidhre noticed how rapidly the line diminished. He made a promise to his cousin on the day her father, the Protector, was slain in the Temple of Heramacles. He would one day become High Priest and he would see that it happened no more.
He was successful. It took many years of study and servitude but one day he was annointed as Heramacles' High Priest. His first decree in the faith was to change the ceremony to a symbolic death that the Protector may continue to do what Armengar required of them. It was met with resistance at first but soon the Volksraad saw the value in keeping their Protector alive.
Cinnte was the second such Protector. Her predecessor lived through seven midwinter ceremonies and this was to be Cinnte's first. It was to her that Oidhre made that faithful promise. She too was a descendant of the Blood - and she too knew the pain of being unable to bear children. Four times Cinnte and her husband conceived a child but each time they were struck by tragedy as none survived beyond their birth. It was enough that hatred began to burn in Cinnte's heart toward Heramacles and Oidhre too as his High Priest. Yet her dedication to Armengar did not waver and it was her fine skills on the battlefield and her ability to bring more men and women home alive than any Gan before her, that meant the responsibility of Protector soon became hers to shoulder. She knew the people of Armengar needed to see the last heir of Heramacles upholding the traditions of midwinter and so she went to the Temple.
Life did not leave Cinnte that morning, as it did so many Protectors. When the sword that took her father's life came to her throat, it did not separate her head from her body as was once its way, but it rested until with her hand she gripped the blade tight. Armengar saw the blood of their Protector spill and poison coursed quickly through her veins. The Sleep came upon her. It was High Healer Etain that tended to her and restored her to health. The real trial for Oidhre and Cinnte, however, was about to begin. Cinnte would not be returned to the people until the evening prayer. Until then, she was confined with Oidhre within the temple.
Oidhre was equally angry at his cousin. He did not believe she took her responsibility as an heir of Heramacles seriously - that her turning from Heramacles would weaken the spirits of the Armengarians and leave them open to defeat by the dreaded Calebii. Many times he had tried to bring her back to the Temple - to help her overcome her pain and bitterness, but she had not wanted to listen. They were all that remained of the Blood and only anger and hatred existed between them. They knew it would be the longest day of their lives. What they didn't know was that Heramacles was waiting for them.
There is a room in the Temple of Heramacles which only the High Priest may enter because it is this room in which Heramacles appeared to his two children. It was here he thanked them for all they had achieved in the protection of Armengar, it was here he promised them their place of honour, and it was here he began to salve their wounds of old. To Oidhre he bestowed a great wisdom and tranquility that quenched the flames of his anger. He gifted him with long life that he may lead in the worship of Heramacles for many years to come and impart that wisdom to all who would listen. He touched his pattern that Oidhre would remain steadfast in the face of all that would make another man crazed. But it was to Cinnte he offered the greatest gift Heramacles was ever known to have given. Armengar was not yet wise enough to lose the Blood of Heramacles and so, if she had the faith to trust, he blessed her womb with an infant, one to whom no harm would come and no sword could touch. Cinnte was frightened indeed for the loss of her previous children had driven her near madness, but there was nothing more in the world she wanted and so it came to be that on the last day before the Calebii withdrew the following winter, Cinnte the Protector fought as hard as ever as she had all Summer but never would a Calebii sword nick even the skin of her little finger. Only when the Calebii fled the battlefield did she send for Etain as the pains of labour grew too intense to hide any longer.
Dóchas was born to the sound of retreating Calebii and rejoicing Armengarians. He was the light Cinnte had for so long been without. For seven long years she protected Armengar and her son with a new fervour and a light in her heart until as it must be for all Protectors, she met her death on an enemy blade. However she held onto life until she could speak to her son one last time. Before that day she would not answer his questions on how he came to be and who had sired him. Perhaps she felt him too young to remain humble in the knowledge of how special he was. With her last breath she told him of that faithful day when the grace of Heramacles granted her a child.
Dóchas grew to be a strong and brave warrior and it was not long before he too bore the mantle of Protector. Heramacles never failed to smile on him as war brought him no injury. He lived a long life as a father of many and Protector of all. Often he spoke of family, the importance of its continuance, and the care with which matches should be made. It was Dóchas who first spoke of all children knowing from whence they came and thus beginning our custom of learning our families. Finally, one day when he was old and his bones were weary, he went to the Temple of his Father to say a silent prayer for his people before the Summer would bring new battles. The acolyte in attendance grew worried when he did not move for some time. When he checked on him he found him lifeless but with a smile upon his face for he knew even then that the Blood would always continue.
The young woman looked up at her Uncle, hoping her telling was pleasing to him. His smile confirmed that it was.
"Thank you my dear Lysa. You have a voice to which one is compelled to listen. You will make a fine Lawkeeper." There was a twinkle in his eye as he winked at her. "Some day."
"Not too soon I hope, Uncle." She stood and kissed him on the cheek. "I must return to my daughter. Do you have everything you need? You're warm enough?"
"Don't fuss. Go on now. Kiss the little one for me."
He watched her as she left the small house, daring to cough only as the door closed firmly behind her.
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