Gods

“What evil wrought thee?” Short, to the point, far from sweet, the question hung over the courtroom lifetimes ago.

She couldn’t respond because the good people of town gagged her to prevent her utterances cursing anyone else.

Her words only foretold events so people could prepare; they did not cause the troubles.No explanation convinced them. Thus, the trial.

They tried to execute her, but nothing took. Fire, water, hemp; poison just made her choke and break out in hives. Drawing and quartering works only when a blade penetrates skin; swords and axes bruised her temporarily.

Finally, they banished her after sewing her lips shut so she could not utter words that may damn them. The right corner of her mouth was left unsecured just enough to allow her to push a mashed pea into her mouth or drip water in. After all, they were frightened, not barbaric.

Off she went alone into the wilderness where beasts awaited a tasty morsel of mortal flesh. So many creatures perished just as they pounced. She was not cruel or evil, just set on remaining alive and unharmed in her mortal shell. Those creatures died instantly, no lingering suffering from hives or itchy sutures for them.

My people found her on a trail and brought her to me, their shaman. A naked hairless woman attracted curiosity and sympathy and a fearful respect akin to that bestowed upon specters of which there were many in the forests. I saw her for what she was: different.

Directing the women to wash and clothe her, I gathered the herbs and sharpened the flint I needed to remove the stitches from her lips and heal the holes in her lips.

As soon as the sun rose, offering the brightest direct light, gently, knowing that the lips have more feeling than most parts of the body, I began swiping at the sinews they used. As they dried in her skin, the sinews pulled her lips tighter together so there was no space between them except in one corner. A cruel treatment that had the sympathy and utmost gentleness from the me and my people watching the process.

The herbs relieved some of the itching and other pain of the holes. She dared not smile and speaking was out of the question for now. Nodding her head in appreciation for my care and expertise, she arose from the stump she was sitting on and walked a few steps away from the people. Facing into the morning sun, she silently offered her prayers of thanks and blessing unto us.

She turned back to us and smiled.

I turned and they stared at me. At first, it was the usual just staring at a new creature in their midst. Then, they saw my face and my healed lips. Eyes widened, mouths oh-ed, then the jabbering ensued. The usual gibberish about a miracle in our midst. Then, the muttering about evil in our midst.

“Silence!” demanded the shaman. “Sister, what can you tell me? Why did you let me free you when you had that power in you?”

“Sir, you were chosen before your time to lead these people. You had to be the one to free me so that my words would be the result of your action.”

Of course, hearing their own language coming from the healed lips of a tortured woman agitated the people again.

“Sister, who could know me before my time? Why would they choose me for anything? Why did whoever did this to you do it? Why did you let them?”

She spoke, “I let them because it amused me and my kind. Their ignorance and prejudices caused them to miss the point of my existence among them. I was there to lead them in a valiant effort. They merely saw a bald woman with inexplicable powers. Powers to heal, to stop wind, to divert insects from their places of eating. When I spoke of things to come, they accused me of causing them. ‘Evil,’ they said. ‘Juno,’ they cried, ‘you need to be stopped.’

“’Death,’ they cried. 'We will not speak of you, Juno. Beware all: we do not speak about Juno! She is evil and a curse unto our land and our people.’”

“Sister, are you evil? Were those others correct in their judgment?”

“Shaman, you see into my mind and my soul. Do you sense evil? Do you sense anything that bothers you? That makes you doubt the sight in front of you? That makes you want to shun or murder me?”

“Nay, Sister. Not yet. Tell us of your kin and why they remain hidden and choose to send you to speak to us thusly.”

“We are what you call gods. We are not Creator; we are Created. Gods with powers to affect histories and universes. We are few compared to your numbers but our range of influence is unfathomable to your minds.

“The gods to whom you pray are valiant and caring and compassionate. We support them, give them strength to always support you and your needs. You, Shaman, are seen by us as exemplary in your devotion and faith and strength.

“You had to be the one to rescue me from my torment. ‘The gods have spoken’ is your phrase. We have spoken. We spoke with your ever-so-powerful gods to confirm your worthiness to join us in a valiant quest. You are to lead your people as righteous warriors destined to act as our avenging angels to balance out the powers of darkness and despair. Your light and the light of all your people will brighten the darkness of torment and intimidation those demons have wrought in your galaxy, your universe.”

“You had to be the one so that all creatures observing would know your strength, your kindness, your determination to do what is right in the face of doubt and opposition. Your gods have blessed you and your people to aid us in this effort.

“Shaman, your doubts strengthen you. Your hesitation to take off your legs and swim in the cosmic ocean is understandable. Your inability to accept your godliness is known to me and mine. Your people cannot comprehend your struggles with the concept of sainthood, of being a god about which you sweat your nights away and about which you weep to your gods.

“Accept what you are. In multiple lives, you’ve been the influencer behind the scenes because of the sin of pride you committed many lives ago. Your struggle with your destiny is nearing its end. It is time you come out from behind the scenes and lead.”

The others standing in the morning light watched our dialogue with dispassionate expressions. Their curiosity and admiration for my bravery overcame their fears. Standing calm and tall in conversation with a witch who claimed to be a god to their gods, I gave them strength.

That was long ago. My people and I served the gods well. Juno spoke truly and we led many battles against the evil ones who subjugated the innocent. We are blessed by the gods and live among them, forever.