The Calling of Love

by Freewind Gingerblaze

For three days, she had watched the moon rise and slowly begin to take on its appearance of a full diam. The clouds drifted across the face in silhouetted series; some covering the heavenly body almost completely. She worried if it would be a clouded moon at full crest.

There had been a message early on the last day left at her doorstep. It was a narrow parchment wrapped around the quill of a blackwing feather of a raven. It had been another summons from Thelma, the head priestess of the coven. It had been a demand for her appearance at the latest gathering and once again, she had chosen to ignore it. The coven was not what she desired and Thelma knew it. Glenda chose to practice in solitaire.

Bess, her old Guernsey milk cow, mooed softly from the thatched shelter, complaining that her udders hurt. It had been months now since Glenda had weaned Miss, the young heifer, from her mother and soon, Miss would add to Glenda's wealth by producing milk as well. Glenda felt herself most fortunate indeed to possess both cows, the young sow and her litter of piglets, a quartet of four hens and one rooster to give her eggs and a song at sunrise as well as a small but very productive vegetable and herb garden. The tiny stone cottage where she lived was hidden mostly out of sight and the young woman was allowed to live in a rare peace and barter exchange with her neighbors. She kept the Wicca to herself and followed her craft in secret. The coven could skate the edges of danger but she wanted no truck with it.

The night the moon flushed full, then Glenda took up her cloak, the bag of simples, and followed by Danny, the old collie. It was at least a two-mile walk to the flat area where the small group of standing stones stood. The coven would meet in the secret hidden glen five miles farther west as Thelma felt the old stones had lost their power from so many rites preformed there by the Druids. Instead of turning darker from the Druids, the old stones had become something of a softer light...a place of good.

The woman and the dog walked the twisted lane quietly, its dust brightened by the full moon. Glenda felt elated and glad as it had been a kind time for her and she hoped to continue for it to be so. She seldom took her rituals into the open as it was to invite danger to do so, but known only by a few as Wiccan, she risked the exposure on occasion.

It drew nigh near midnight when she reached the standing stones; numbering only three with the largest in the center and the flat altar stone at its base. The stone shown white in the moonlight, with sprinkles of blue agate running in the time-worn texture. Her heart grew lighter by the moment.

While Danny positioned himself to stand guard, Glenda moved to the center pillar. In the worn crevice in the flat stone, she placed a small sprinkle of chamomile, dill, valerian and St. John's Wort, spiced with ginger and bay. Arranged neatly and then with a final laying of one small white rose, she had her offering done. Stepping back from the stone, she raised her head, let the hood fall back exposing her long red hair. She spun slowly first clock-wise and once again at the origin of the circle, she removed the cloak and stood "sky-clad" in the perimeter of the ancient monoliths.

Humming a beloved ballad and chanting softly as well, she began to whirl and dance, calling upon the power and the pull of the moon. She began to dance with joy, feeling wild erotic feelings flowing throughout her lithe body. Danny was her only viewer, or so it seemed, as she spun, skipped and danced with frivolity under the Lady Moon.

Aroused and her nakedness glistening with beads of moisture, she keened a song of desire and want. What stopped her was Danny's low growl and an answering tenor to her song. She turned quickly to see another cloaked figure standing near her but beyond the bared fangs of the dog. It was a man in all appearance.

"Do not stop" he said.

"You must not watch." she said, but then, a need and an answering came to her so she stepped forward, making an enticing gesture as she went. She whispered a hush to Danny, and held out one hand to the stranger.

As if mesmerized, he came to her, dropping his cloak as he came. Young, slender and obviously entranced. They met in the middle, his clothes discarded. He was a gift from Brigit, the goddess, and Glenda intended to make full use of that gift.

She led him back to the center stone and made a bed of his cloak and hers at the base. Now, both naked, the consummation of the calling of love came complete.

They touched each other, joined together, and found great pleasure in each other, coupling many times. Her moans of pleasure were audible and full of encouragement as he preformed his act of conquest. Finally satisfied, the lay together for awhile until he rose and said with sadness that he had to leave her as the coach he had been a passenger on had a broken wheel and had waited at the nearest inn for the local blacksmith and wheelwright to repair it through the night. Dawn was near and he must return to the inn after what was to be a walk to relieve his boredom. He had relieved his boredom quite well.

Once the first light of dawn peeked on the eastern horizon, she took up her cloak, blushed with a bit of embarrassment, but spoke lightly and pleasurably to wish him a good journey. Obviously well-mannered, he returned her farewells and set off for the inn, not the least from being totally befuddled to have lain with some strange woman dancing in the nude at some old Pagan site.

As Glenda watched him disappear into the trees, she smiled secretly to herself with the bemused look of a happy woman. It worked every time...the calling of love.