Enter Ye

Herewith, the latest selection from dusted-off published poetry and short fiction, circa 1970s vintage and beyond....

Be Not Afraid

Step you forward, Stranger. Why look you so, upon me? Ah yes, curiosity is a strange, unquenchable thirst, is it not? Doubtless you've heard ... strange stories. Approach: Have no fear I will do you naught. There: Look you to your fullest .... Ah, you do not shrink back. Be at your ease, Stranger. I see many questions hovering on the lips of your curiosity, still unsatisfied. You have but to ask, it shall be my pleasure to deliver you of the pricklesome burden, this quest which has taken you to these far corners. Exactly ... seat yourself. Be comforted in my presence. ...And, you are named? Aenid? Know then, Aenid, you who have come so far, that I do herewith grant to you the freedom to ask what you will. such a journey as yours should have its reward.

I am She, Rheeta. There is none other of that name extant. The name is the Sign; she who bears it bears also the burden of the Sisterhood. Although my time will come as surely as it has done my predecessors, there will always be another and yet, another, Rheeta. This, that you see engraved, etched and lovingly portrayed upon my countenance is the past. Upon my visage is the past always present. The shades of carmine are the hues of carnage. That which was once visited upon this Sisterhood.

Your own face, lovely Aenid, wrinkles in dismay. I speak in riddles, you say. Such has always been the wont of the Motherhood of which I am the Superior. This archaic tongue is our sacred language. I shall, however, forsake it for the sake of your complete understanding. For it is meet that you do understand, you whose presence has a meaning and an urgency beyond your ken. Do you hark unto me, Aenid....

This is now, on the surface at any rate, a peaceful country. Did you see unrest or indication of any kind of material want on your way here? No, you would not. Did you stop at one of our ale-houses ringing the common? Ah, you did. Well, these are our meeting places; where the men of the Keep and the women of the Sisterhood mingle. In public those, our ale-houses, are the sole places which permit social interchange.

It is there, in these places which serve both our people, that the two solitudes meet, become personally aware of one another on more than an abstract level of the separation imposed upon us by sad history ... and where, if like minds meet, representations can be made toward future joinings. I still speak in riddles? Why is there that separation? And what do I mean by 'joinings'? Yes, of course, it is history, background which is needed to introduce you to our culture.

You come from Beyond, there where, as the Lore tells us, the cataclysms that shook this portion of the world had little effect. Your world, and your people, were thought millennia ago to have evolved later and separately from this place. And so, the level of your civilization was held back; you were thought by the ancients to be what they termed a 'stone-age culture'; that is, without advanced technical support-systems. These words, you must understand, are as a litany. I do know what they mean, but I cannot envisage exactly what advanced technology was, so long ago - other than what the Lore vaguely permits us to know. Some things - many things - are known only to the priestly caste. It is they who interpret the Lore and it is they who decide how much we should know and what to withhold from us.

Suffice it to say that when our segment of this world went into swift - and many thought - irremediable decline, yours was miraculously unscathed ... and so you continued in your own leisurely fashion to evolve. We have actually very little curiosity of the places which exist beyond our borders. We pay obeisance - as we must - to the priesthood for they are the Keepers of the Lore ... and we assist the Keep to pay tribute to the Overlords for they are the Keepers of the Peace. Both, the Lore and peace, are essential to our continued existence. We have been threatened in the past, on many occasions, by the attempted incursions of outside aliens.

The attempted invasions have been sparked both by a lust for our women whose beauty and industry is well known and for the plentiful gems which the men of the Keep mine and use as barter and Tribute. These gems cannot be found elsewhere. It has been said variously that these lands were once rained upon by a burst of heavenly bodies colliding, showering our mountains and plains with the bounty which has since named this place Feldspar ... and it has also been rumoured that the gems occurred through some strange alchemy of destruction brought about by the awesome weaponry which once great powers used in their ways, one against the another.

It is true that we are the remnants of a once-powerful and proud nation. The Lore tells us that great multitudes lived in these lands once; their numbers were legion and they had evolved a way of living that was much unlike ours. In many ways it is even now difficult for us to live together in harmony. So that I can almost imagine how difficult it must have been for so many people as were reputed to have lived then, to agree with one another and respect each other.

And as the Lore would have it, there came a time when agreement and respect evaporated and in their place reigned fear and hatred and an unreasoning wish for revenge - for what, I cannot say. And thus was unleashed a horror that rid the earth of its inhabitants. Yes, I know it had little effect in your places, but ours were affected. Even now, in the marshes beyond the forests fencing in this land no one wishes to go. A strange phosphorescence glimmers over the waters; they assume strange shapes and we hear eerie sounds as of the weeping of multitudes.

That is the history, such as it is. What we discovered also is that the men and women could not live happily together. For some reason, after the coming-together again of those who survived, there was much bitterness. The men accused the woman of goading them to war and the women accused the men of deserting them for the glories of war. This, at any rate, is what the Lore tells us.

Over a period of time, a rift ensued and a sharp division of labours came about and with it, a drifting apart of men and women. So that, eventually, we became as you see us now ... the central place and the outlying settlements. The central place is the Keep, inhabited by the Thane and his men. The settlements consist of Sisterhood villages. Over the fields are the mountains and plains which yield our famed gems. The mining and other aligned industry is the men's province. Spinning, weaving, animal husbandry and farming belongs to the women. As does the care of the creches, the instruction-houses. Indeed, that separation of duties, the Lore informs, is no innovation; it has been so, from time immemorial - we have only taken it a step further with our imposition of the physical separation of male and female.

We have our problems but for the most part, the arrangement is a congenial one.

We have a Council of Elders in our Sisterhood, commonly termed the Motherhood. These are comprised of women who have seen much and their counsel has stood us well in times of need. I am the titular head of the Motherhood. I stand alone, however, in never having mothered children. I am the recognized Mother of all, nonetheless. In my place, when my time comes, will be another, groomed from childhood to take her part in our history. We are one, the succession of Rheetas and as such, faceless. this is the reason why that portion of the Lore which tells of man's brutality to women which comes about through close daily living together, is etched on my face in this vermilion dye.

It was done, that scarring, when I was past childhood and I remember nothing of the ritual. I did not go through childhood with this face, but wore a common and quite unremarkable countenance so that I could mingle with the other children and not be kept apart. In this way could I know my people and share their thoughts. Were I to have been known as one set apart, those thoughts and the freedom which comes from consorting with one's peers, would have been withheld from me.

It was with the ascension of my role, my place as Mother Superior, that that other face was removed and my identity revealed. All my predecessors, as I myself will be, were ceremoniously plowed back into the earth from whence they came; to enrich the soil and ensure the bounty of future harvests. It is our way, one which has a long and honourable tradition.

We seek to please that Ultimate Superior, whom we all faithfully serve.

c. 1980 Rita Rosenfeld