A Song of Oak and Holly

The ocean wind whipped at the long, gray beards of the two hooded druids as they ascended the rocky rise; their brown woolen robes tight around them, a bulwark against the cold late December air. Each man clutched a long wooden staff, one of oak and one of black Thornwood, decorated with ornate carvings of ancient markings.

The full moon shone brightly, fully illuminating the island of Inis Gluaire as the two men approached the solitary, dark-cloaked figure at the top of the rise.

“Mother, they are here,” the druid with the Thornwood staff bowed deeply. “Both boats have landed upon the beach.”

“We had to wait upon the Holly King,” the druid with oaken staff bowed as the other man shot him an irritated side glance.

“The Holly King is always late to arrive in winter and early to arrive in summer,” Danu smiled as she pulled back the hood of her dark cloak, letting her long auburn hair blow freely in the wind. “Has the board been set?”

“It has,” the men nodded as they answered in unison.

“Then let us not keep the kings waiting, this Winter Solstice night grows short,” Danu touched each druid gently on the shoulder as she turned to continue to the top of the hill.

Atop the hill, Danu and the two aged druids could see all of the barren shores of Inis Gluaire as the ocean waves crashed upon the white rock outcroppings that dotted its beaches. The hill was bare of all vegetation and blown smooth by the relentless winds of the Atlantic. They walked to the large boulder, half as tall as a man that rested as a silent sentinel atop the hill, and looked upon the wooden board that sat on the large worn, flat stone. Carved from dark brown yew wood, the roughly square gaming board contained a circle in the middle and circular arcs marked off each corner. A handle whittled into the shape of a man’s face projected horizontally from the top and bottom sides of the board. Raised edges consisting of eight panels of carved five- and six-strand interlace framed the board. Two corner edges remained plain and unadorned, while the two opposite corners bore carvings of ring-chain interlace.

The center circle contained a dark oval stone with a swirling white mist that snaked and swam like an eel in a dark pool. Two smaller black stones, eight in all, were arranged on each side of the center stone. Three small white oval stones lined each side of the board.

Two twin men, young and beardless, with sightless eyes as white as pearls, stood beside each of the carved wooden handles. They wore dark woolen robes like the older druids; however, their hoods lay thrown back in defiance of the cold night to reveal long coal-black hair that blew in the wind.

“Is all prepared,” Danu ran a slender finger along the ancient board.

“Yes, Mother,” bowed one of the twins.

“We await your command,” bowed the other.

“Very good,” she smiled and touched each man on the forehead with her index finger.

The two older druids flanked Danu as she cast her gaze down the hill to the life-sized replica of the gaming board hewn into the white stone of the island, ringed with torches that threw the whole arena into an eerie glow of flickering lights. Their eyes watched the two processions making their way to the arena from opposite sides of the island.

A tall, dark-haired man with a regal bearing led the first procession; upon his head, he wore a king’s crown carved from a pure white oak branch with twisting branches that reached skyward. The man’s shirt and tunic were shades of dark brown, and a forest green cloak fluttered in the wind. Behind him came two women in long dark green dresses, their long brown hair braided down their backs. Twelve men dressed in brown tunics with wooden helms on their heads trailed in a single line. Each wore a long steel sword sheathed on their belts and carried large, round wooden shields painted with a tall oak tree with green leaves.

The king ascended to the stand upon one of the stone outcroppings carved in imitation of the game board’s handles while each woman took their place atop one of the smooth unadorned corners of the arena. The twelve men filed into the arena and took up positions three abreast on each side, arrayed in the same fashion as the white stones on the board.

“Mother, the Oak King has arrived,” the druid with the oaken staff raised it and pointed it at the Oak King, who dipped his head in acknowledgment.

The Oak King then turned to each of the women and nodded. At his signal, the two women began to sing, and their melodic voices rose above even the din of the ocean as they sang in the ancient tongue. They sang a song of warmth and rebirth, seedlings growing into trees and bountiful harvests. The chill of the night air receded as they raised their voices in song.

As the women sang, the second procession entered the arena, led by a tall man with a beard and long hair of pure white, like newly fallen snow. He was clad all in black and wore a crown of holly, adorned with red berries, upon his head as he ascended to stand on the other carved wooden head. Two women, clad in black dresses with their long white hair trailing freely behind them, walked to stand atop each of the corners adorned with carvings of ring-chain interlace. Nine soldiers entered the arena, clad in black trousers, tunics, and helms. The chests of their tunics bore an embroidered bramble of green holly with red berries. A soldier carrying a shield of black Thornwood and a long sword walked to the circle in the center of the arena. Standing in pairs, the eight soldiers carrying long black Thornwood poles tipped with heavy axe blades followed and took up position on each side of the sword-bearing soldier.

“Axes instead of swords,” the druid with the oaken staff looked sidelong at his counterpart. “Odhran, that is not the tradition.”

“Mother, the Holly King has arrived,” a sly smile crossed Odhran’s face as he raised his Thornwood staff to the Holly King.

“Mother,” the druid leaned heavily on his oak staff as he bowed his head. “I must protest; this is highly irregular.”

In the arena, the two black-clad women joined their voices in the song; however, they sang of cold and sleep, of leaves falling from branches and snow-covered hills. A chill returned to the air as they sang.

“Darragh, the Holly King, is always unorthodox, but he does not violate the sacred rules,” Danu turned from the druids and walked back to the board, staring at the arrayed stones as the twins stood stoically by. “The contest may commence.”

The druids turned to the arena and raised their staves as the competing songs suddenly rose in tenor. The kings shouted orders to the men as swords were drawn and long axes made ready. While Darragh and Odhran fixed their gaze on the arena, Danu stared intently at the game board. The twins’ sightless eyes were open and unblinking; however, their hands moved at an incredible speed, moving the pieces across the game board to match the movements in the arena.

The Oak King shouted an order, and his three soldiers on the north side and the three on the south side of the arena charged the Holly King’s soldiers in the center. One of the Holly King’s men stepped forward to meet each charge and swung his long-handled axe at the soldiers’ heads. Darragh gasped as the soldiers raised their shields to defend against the killing blow, only to have another of the Holly King’s soldiers step forward and swing his axe low at their legs. The feint caught the Oak King’s men off guard and the heavy axe blades sliced entirely through the legs of charging soldiers. As they fell stricken, the Holly King’s men quickly dispatched them with thrusts of their long axes.

On the game board, one of the twins swept the six white stones representing the fallen Oak soldiers off the board and into the fold of his robe. The Holly King jeered across the arena as the Oak King shouted orders to reorganize his diminished force of soldiers as the six fallen men faded away. The voices of the black-clad Holly women increased in volume, beginning to overpower the Oak singers.

Odhran gave Darragh a haughty smile, but his high spirits were short-lived. The Holly King’s ploy surprised the Oak soldiers, but the heavy axes proved difficult and unwieldy. Two of the Holly soldiers found themselves quickly dispatched as they failed to defend against the nimble thrusts of the Oak soldier’s swords. One of the twins slipped the two black stones from the board as the soldiers faded to mists. The song of the green-clad Oak women began to gather strength as the volume of the Holly song faded slightly and a warmth returned to the air.

Danu watched the smooth, ceaseless movement of the stones across the board as the twins matched every move. Whites and black stones constantly shifted around the board, the smooth rock sliding effortlessly across the polished yew wood. Nimble hands swept off stones as Oak and Holly soldiers fell and faded to mist. Only three white stones remained on the board, while four black stones, including the large stone with the shifting mists, remained. The large stone sat within one of the corner arcs, separated by the white stones from the three small black stones on the other side of the board.

The three Holly soldiers found themselves held at bay by the three Oak soldiers against the south wall of the arena in a stalemate, as the Holly soldier with the sword stood protected within the northwestern arc. If the Oak soldiers were too close for the Holly soldiers to swing their long axes, but if they moved in to strike them down with their swords, they left themselves open to attack by the lone Holly soldier in the corner. However, if the Oak soldiers retreated to engage the Holly soldier in the corner, the three soldiers would be able to bring their long axes to bear with deadly results. Above the arena, the songs of Oak and Holly dueled.

One of the Oak soldiers tore off their helmet in frustration and threw it to the ground, the wood clattering on the stone floor of the arena. A long braid of dark hair hung loosely over the brown tunic as the woman turned toward the Holly soldier in the corner.

“Come crone,” the soldier raised her sword in challenge. “Come match steel with the Oak Queen.”

“Ha,” Odhran gave a scornful laugh. “Why should the Holly Queen leave the protection of the arc? She has the numbers to win.”

“We shall see,” Darragh shifted his oaken staff nervously in his hand.

“At long last, the Holly King will win the Winter Solstice,” Odhran bared his teeth wickedly. “The days will not lengthen. The nights will not shorten. Winter will not recede.”

Darragh only glanced sidelong at his companion and then returned his gaze to the arena. While the Oak Queen had her back turned, the three Holly nights surged forward. One of the Oak soldiers tumbled backward, falling and quickly fading to mist as a Holly axe removed him from the contest. The remaining Oak soldier avenged his comrade with a quick thrust that had one of the twins removing a black stone from the board, but the Holly soldiers overpowered him with their axes. With all the Oak soldiers faded to mists, the two Holly soldiers charged the Oak Queen as the Holly King roared in triumph.

Danu watched impassively as one of the twins rapidly moved the two black stones toward the last remaining white stone and then quickly removed the two stones from the board. Only one white and one black stone remained.

“Just you and I, crone,” the Oak Queen wagged her sword at the figure in the corner.

The Holly Queen removed her black helm and threw it to the side. Her cold blue eyes stared out from a wrinkled but once beautiful face. She shook her hair so that her long white hair flowed freely about her shoulders as she stepped from the corner.

The Oak King and Holly King shouted encouragement to their respective queens as the two women circled each other, thrusting and parrying each other’s blades. The voices of the singing women rose in pitch and intensity as the two women closed ranks, swinging their swords furiously as they sought weakness in their opponent’s defense.

The clanging of steel rang through the arena as the women took turns pressing the offensive and falling back defensively. Steel met steel and flesh alike as they closed on each other, and one pair of women suddenly ceased singing.

On the hilltop, one of the twins slid the last black stone from the board.

“You may have one today,” the Holly Queen stared into the Oak Queen’s triumphant face. “But when we return in the Summer, I will be the maiden, and you will be the crone.”

The Holly Queen smiled defiantly as she faded into mist.

“I will see you again soon, brother,” the Oak King called to the Holly King as the sound of the Oak women singing filled the arena.

“Until the Summer Solstice then,” the Holly King nodded to his brother as he turned to return to his ship.

Odhran reached into the folds of his robe and produced a handful of holly berries that he placed in the center of the game board. He bowed respectfully to Danu and stepped back as she returned his bow. Darragh stepped forward, withdrew an oak leaf from his robe, and placed it on the game board atop the holly berries.

“Mother, the winter ficheall has been completed. The Oak King won the Winter Solstice.”

“Then, in accordance with the ancient ways,” Danu raised her arms to the sky. “The days shall lengthen. The nights shall shorten. Winter will recede into Spring as the song of oak carries on the wind.”

Jack Finn (TWITTER:@therealjackfinn)