Old Stone Mother
The old stone mother lived in Anna's mind, but only in the place that dreamed. She was the one who started the journey. When the hands pulled her out from the grave, she saw the face of another like herself, and felt the sensation of one who was the same. The old stone mother had also been the same. Anna only remembered these things in dreams. She did not like to think of them during the day.
Methos sometimes wondered at the things she moaned about in her sleep, the tongues she spoke, and the way she would never speak on them. But, more often than not, he wisely thought it was best he not know more about Anath-Sin than he already did. Knowing about her explained nothing.
This is the dream of the old stone mother.
*****
The hands firmly lifted her up, and she saw kind eyes. The man was a stranger, and he did not speak to her. He only said, "You are the one. Come, I will take you to the old stone mother."
She but half-understood the tongue he spoke. It was the tongue of a neighboring people, but spoken strangely, as if it were but newly learned. She stared at him. He gave her a patient look, and then pulled her to her feet. She walked on them unsteadily, and the feel of the earth still clinging to her was horrible. She felt like she was made of it. It was an evil feeling. She tried to remember the words of thanks in that language, and then whispered them-she could do no more than whisper. She received a smile in return.
"How many moons have you seen, little one?" the man asked her. She could not answer that-she did not understand him. He tried again. "How many harvests?"
She then thought on this. It was not the way of her people to keep track of those things, but she thought it was, perhaps twenty. Perhaps twenty harvests. She told him this. He seemed angry with her, then.
"How have you lived twenty harvests? When did you first…" and then he truly looked on her. "Ah," he then said, nodding. "You are a child. You came from a place not far from here, and do not know what you are. But you will. Everything will be explained when you meet the old stone mother."
"Is she your dam?" Anna inquired. She could not imagine why he should speak of her as "stone." The man laughed, then, and he showed too many teeth.
"She is the dam of everything. You know the goddess?"
And then, Anna felt very foolish. He was not speaking of a woman. Of course, he had not been. He was speaking of a goddess. She knew better than to speak further, as she credited the man with saving her life. She simply looked down, and let him lead her to the place of the old stone mother.
He tried to speak with her, but there were few common words between them. She did not mind listening to him, though. And she thought he seemed a good man. He spoke of the evildoers who were the men she had fought with. Those, he had slain, and he pointed to the bodies. He spoke of that with pride. She again whispered the words of thanks. He then, fiercely, said the dogs should eat them. She nodded.
And then they were within sight of the stone building. There was a monster. She almost screeched when she saw it-but then looked again. It was a woman made of stone, but she had no face. She was large, larger than anything. Taller than a woman. She reminded Anna of a woman in the village who was big with child. She was so grossly fat that they were certain it would be a fine, healthy child, but a evil word must have been spoken, for not one healthy child, but three dead babies had she. She took ill of a fever, and still she seemed to grow larger…until she died.
She found herself being pulled to her knees by a sensation she never felt before. It was something akin to that of her rescuer, but it was even more profound. If she ever thought before she had known the divine, she had been wrong. This was the divine.
"The old stone mother," she said, softly. The man laughed again.
"No, it is not the stone. Go within. The old stone mother loves the young ones."
Feeling, again, like a fool, she rose to her feet. She gave him a look, as if trying to scry from his features what was within his speaking to her so. But she had never known fear-it was never her way to show fear, if she could help it. She spoke a reassuring word to herself, and then she walked even ahead of the man. And she fell to her knees again when she saw the old stone mother.
"Stand, little one," the man hissed. "Behold, she may let you live if she loves you. But if you behave as a fool, those men," and he pointed to the men on either side of the throne of the old stone mother, "will give you to her. And that, you would not want."
Had she thought the stone was large? Had she feared the eyes of the cobra? Did she think she felt astonishment when the men abused her? She knew no such things.
The old stone mother sat on a throne. She would be no taller than Anna if she stood, but she did not stand. Anna thought, perhaps, the woman could not-she sat so still. Her face was the face of a monster, all black lines, and her teeth were black, and her eyes were black, and her hair had grown down her back and shoulders, and she sat on the ends of it, and the ends trailed the floor of the temple. And there was nothing stranger than that hair. It seemed like a cloth. The woman perceived her staring, and she made a face.
"Live, and this will happen to you." She twisted one night-hued lock in her hands. "Like a tree. Or the grass. Or the grain."
The men nodded. "There is nothing older than the old stone mother," said one. "She is as old as the grain."
"Show her what I am. Cut me with the stone blade, that she knows me."
She watched in horror as the men each lay the stone hafts against her skin. She watched the blood break through the surface, and then, she could see a bit of light, and perceived that the woman was whole. The woman bore with the display patiently, as if she had done this a thousand times. She did not even show pain.
"Damunutana. Bring her closer to me that I may see her."
Her rescuer grabbed her arm, and led her closer to the old stone mother. When she was close enough to see the pitch-dark lashes of the woman's eyes, she could smell an incense from the woman, and understood that she was not a monster. She did not have a face that was black-lined, but had been painted in this manner, just as her people painted their totem with red ochre, and just as she would paint herself when she would do her rite. Knowing the woman was merely painted made her feel relaxed, and she thought to herself, "The old stone mother is like me."
"What do they call you?" the woman then asked. "And who are your people?"
"I am Anna. And I have no people."
The way she spoke it made the men gasp. They looked at the sitting woman expectantly, as if waiting for her to do something. Anna then noticed, with surprise, that they held stone scythes. She wondered why she had not noticed them to be scythes before. As if for cutting grain. For reaping a harvest.
"Speak better. You are called Anna by your people. And who are they?" The woman asked.
"I call myself Anna," she answered, honestly. "And as for my people, they do not exist. They were never mine. They put me to death, but the Goddess spared me and I put them to the flame."
The old stone mother rose to her feet. It happened so quickly that Anna almost fell back. The men came forward, and the scythes were ready to strike her, but then, the old stone mother raised her hand. She shook her head, sadly, and then sat again.
"I did not know I would see this day so soon. Lead her to the pit. She comes to replace me."
Anna's mouth fell open. She did not care for the sound of being led to a pit. It echoed the hymn of the snake god again. She did not care for rites involving pits. She found herself approaching the woman, about to protest.
Damunutana held her wrist fast. She turned.
"What does this mean?" Anna asked, first him, and then the old stone mother. "What does this mean?" She braced her bare feet against the stone floor and would not be moved. "You speak insanities! Replace you-in what? Sitting?" She braced her feet so hard that she pitched forward, and her hand fell into the lap of the old stone mother, who then held it. She looked into the palm.
Anna winced, her knees singing a song of pain. She then looked up into the face of the old stone mother, who raptly looked at her hand.
"She seems a brutal idiot," Damunutana said. "She is not a woman. She's like a demon."
"Yes. She is. That is how I know her." She let Anna's hand go. "The next age will be an age of fire. She is rash and destructive, but that is how it must be." The woman made a gesture of resignation. "I can make nothing of her. Perhaps she will know what to do when you show her the pit. Let her gaze on her brothers and sisters." She leaned down, and touched Anna's face, smoothing back a strand of hair. "Go. Nothing will harm you."
*****
The faces of her brothers and sisters looked back on her with empty eyes. There were no eyes. There was emptiness. Her "brother and sisters" were skulls.
"These are the sacrifices to the old stone mother. They live in her," Damunutana said, reverently. "I would have been among them, but she favored me. And she…" He looked away. He seemed sad, and so Anna put her hand on his shoulder.
"How do I replace her?" she asked, softly. "Is this the thing that I was brought here for?"
"No. I brought you here to join these," he said, bitterly, and waved his hand over the skulls. Just as I brought all the others here. She said this was the way. There were rumors of another way…but I ignored them at her word."
Anna closed her eyes. None of this made sense to her. These people were, she was beginning to realize, of her own flesh. That was why she could sense their approach.
"My head? You brought me here so I could have my head stored in a room?" she asked.
"You know nothing. It feeds her power." As he said the words, he began to look sly. She did not care for his look. "She would give the power to you."
"How?" Anna asked, but even she could begin to see what the game was. Her eyes grew wide as he knelt down, and picked up a skull. He thrust it before her, and, instinctively, she took it from him.
"Are you the brutal idiot I think you are?" he asked, but not in an unkind voice.
She regarded the eyeless, skinless, soulless face. A skull weighs hardly anything. She looked on it long and hard, and then tossed it back to the floor of the pit.
"No! Why can someone else not replace her?"
She looked on his face, which seemed almost pleased. She had no use for his answer, but made her way back to the temple of the old stone mother.
*****
"This is the time of reckoning. Have you made your decision?" the old stone mother asked.
"Yes. I chose to be the sacrifice."
Once again, she had said an astonishing thing. The old stone mother looked at her with interest, and the men raised their scythes.
"That was never a choice I gave you. I will let you live, but you know what you are here for. I told you. It is decided. Reconsider."
Anna looked down at the stone floor. She could hear approaching footsteps. It was Damunutana. He came with people following him. They did not so much as look on the old stone mother. They looked at herself. She ignored the stares, and then spoke.
"I have been a sacrifice before. I have given my body to the Goddess. I gave my life to the snake god of my people. Blood has been shed with my hand. Damunutana spoke to me of the evildoer. I am that. I will not replace you."
"She has shed blood?" one of the people asked. "She is not fit."
"Make another sacrifice," said another. "She is fair, she should be pleasing."
The old stone mother rose, and descended the steps that raised the throne. She stopped when she stood face to face with Anna. She placed a hand on each of Anna's shoulders, and then she kissed each of Anna's cheeks.
"This is my daughter, with whom I am well pleased. I will prepare her for what must come. Let us speak."
The people did not move. Nothing moved. The earth stood still. Anna said, "No."
The old stone mother's eyes twinkled. "No?"
"I will speak."
"You are an idiot and a child," the old stone mother whispered into Anna's ear. Hearing that, she knew this was no goddess, but only a woman, with whom she might speak. She spoke softly, that only the old stone mother would hear.
"They take the heads for you. Why should I have this done for me?"
The woman laughed. "Take mine, and you will understand."
"Why me?"
"Because you are brutal."
"You are called the old stone mother. Do you know what my people called me? They called me a demon."
"You died and then lived. It is common enough for people to call one a demon for that."
Anna then smiled. She smiled a knowing smile, because she could feel the sensation she always had when she was about to say a true thing. She could feel the storm build in her heart, and then spoke the words of her heart.
"I was called a demon because when I speak a thing, it comes to pass. I will not take your head, because I know the way of people. Even a child might know something that one older does not. I will not take your head, and I will not replace you here. If you wish to die, give me a reason."
"I am older than anything-even the grain," the woman said, and her eyes were pleading. "You can't know what it is like. It would have been better for me to lose my head a long time ago than to live this long. I once saw men that were not as men are now. I knew a day when they did not even till the earth. And I see no end to my days."
Anna paused, horrified.
"Can we live so long?"
"Yes. We are immortal. Take my head, and have my power. Be the goddess of this place, and let the people worship you in my stead. You can stomach this-I can no longer."
"Say nothing," Anna then said and stepped back from the old stone mother. She went to one of the men bearing scythes, and gave a questioning look to the old stone mother, who smiled. She took the scythe from the man, and held it out before her.
"I am Anna," she said. She was not sure that the people even knew the language she spoke, but they seemed to. They waited for her to go on. "I am the daughter, with whom old stone mother is pleased. I desired to be the sacrifice that the grain might grow, watered with my blood. But she desired that I take her place. She wishes to leave you."
She looked on those assembled. Damunutana's eyes were fierce, and she knew that he was the one she had to strike a bargain with. He had to agree to what she was about to propose.
"She said there was to be a new age-an age of fire. She thought it would be the age of her daughter, but I am wise, and I know many a thing. It is to be an age of the son."
The old stone mother gasped, as did the people. She held the scythe out to Damunutana, who took it as if in a dream.
"You are a demon," the old stone mother said, her voice weak with wonder.
Damunutana held the scythe in his hands and stared at it. "You would not be the first, old stone mother," he said. "I do it after the manner of the old way. Not because of my desire to replace you, but because of your power."
"I taught you better."
"I watched you take them with glee. I stood by you over the moons. And asked for nothing. And you chose the girl?"
"It must be a goddess. It has always been a goddess…"
"It is the age of the son," Anna repeated. She knew this having been said, she need say no more.
"You don't understand!" the old stone mother screamed. "You don't choose. You can't reject this. If he takes my head-I will speak a true thing-you will take his power in the end! It is what you were meant to be."
"There is no name for what I am meant to be," Anna said, as Damunutana used the scythe to slice off the head of the old stone mother. And with that stroke, the very earth shook. She looked at Damunutana, and he was borne up in a ring of fire and thrown out of the temple. The air swirled about her, but she ran to see what calamity was occurring without.
The stone had split in two! The temple was cracking at the foundation. The people screamed and ran. The pit hurled up its treasure of skulls. But that was not the worst. The worst was what was happening to Damunutana. Anna wondered if the very gods were not angered by their conspiracy, and she feared for him. He was being stricken by the very lightning of the sky!
She screamed, wordlessly, as she watched him struggle in the midst of the sizzling bolts. When they ceased, she ran to him and knelt, thinking he surely would be dead.
"Oh, I did not mean to chose you for death," she breathed.
"No more than I would have wished to chose you for yours," he said, startling her. "As I have done to too many. Choosing them for death at her hands. I can see that. I know why she wanted it to end."
"What happened to you?" she asked, deep in awe.
"That was the Quickening. You know none of this." He tried to raise himself, but seemed weak. "You need to know."
"You need help to stand, and that is all I need to know," she responding, taking his arm.
For the lifetime of a man she learned from him, and for more than the lifetime of a man beyond that they knew one another and they traveled together, leaving the people of the old stone mother far behind them. They went to the north and the east, and they learned the tongues of many a people, some of whom knew of the old stone mother. They would never speak of it. She learned the way that Damunutana knew of before the old stone mother chose him-the way of the battle between Immortals. But they never laid a hand against each other.
That was why she cried so bitterly when the men came. She did not even know they were men-they seemed half-man, half-horse. His head was taken, and she received his Quickening, just as the old stone mother said she would.
When the Spirit-People saw how the Sky Father made his love for the woman known, they treated her with all the respect due a goddess. They showed her that Sky Father had given them the horse and the blade as their lot, and she thought with rue about what the old stone mother had said. Here was a new age. Her age.
And that was how she learned the way of the horse, and the way of killing.