The Celtic Serpent Read online

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Back cover

  the

  celtic

  serpent

  by S. Robertson

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  The Celtic Serpent

  Copyright ©2012 by S. Robertson

  ISBN-13 978-1-77143-028-9

  First Edition

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Robertson, S. (Sally), 1943-

  The Celtic Serpent [electronic resource] / by Sally Robertson – 1st ed.

  Electronic monograph in PDF format.

  ISBN 978-1-77143-028-9

  Also available in print format.

  Additional cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada

  Book cover designed by Megan Simpson, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada.

  This work has been registered with the Canadian Intellectual Property Office:

  Copyright Registration #1094327

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events and persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Extreme care has been taken by the author to ensure that all information presented in this book is accurate and up to date at the time of publishing. Neither the author nor the publisher can be held responsible for any errors or omissions. Additionally, neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Publisher:

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  www.ccbpublishing.com

  To Bill and Gregory

  Prologue

  Ireland 60 C.E.

  Dawn broke, the stillness punctured by a flock of birds as they rose in unison, their high pitched cries heralding a preordained disaster.

  Our of the morning mist a Roman army stealthily moved onto the Island of Mora off the west coast of Wales. Under Imperial orders, General Suetonius Plautius was ready to strike a lethal blow against the Druids by attacking their college center and the residence of the Arch-Druid. By day’s end every soul would be slaughtered and the sacred groves of Britain hacked to the ground. Fearing the power of the Druids, the Roman Emperor had decreed their extinction, a campaign which would last for centuries. That evening, as a heavy mist shrouded the Sacred Isle, it was said that some could hear the ancient gods weeping.

  Days later, a Druidic Seer walked slowly up the Hill of Tara in Erin. At the halfway point he stopped to gaze on a cherished scene, likely for the last time. He envied the freedom of a lonely hawk as it soared on a gust of wind. While his premonitions foretold of danger it did not speak of such savagery. Menacing clouds were everywhere. Continuing his journey he headed towards a small group of students at the top of the hill.

  The Druidic students, dressed in white, their colored sashes depicting their degree, stood near an oak tree, their accustomed meeting place.

  “Thank you, for being here, we have much to talk about and little time,” said the Seer, Imergin, as he joined them. “The attack on Mora is but the beginning of a dreadful campaign against our Order which will last for generations.”

  “Why did the Romans attack us, Master?” asked one of the younger students unable to restrain his anxiety.

  Imergin carefully chose his words, “I’m sure the Romans will give many excuses; maybe their condemnation of our beliefs, our way of life, or our magic, but perhaps their greatest fear is that we may have a greater legitimacy to rule than they do. Power-mongers fear competition and grow more strident when they command armies.”

  “But Master, why now? What changed?” asked an older student.

  “That, my son, is the key question. Obviously, certain Roman leaders decided that by eliminating our Order, it would be easier to conquer our people. The severity of this attack was intended to undermine their confidence. Only time will tell if it achieved its purpose.”

  “Master, what do you mean; we have a more legitimate right to rule?”

  “That, my son, is something you need to know. It will be important to your descendants. As you know, our Order has very ancient roots. From boyhood, I was taught that the Druids existed from before the Great Flood. When Atlantis was hit by comets, a small remnant of our Order survived and made their way to this Sacred Isle, a remaining piece of their homeland.”

  “Master, do you actually believe we are standing on a piece of Atlantis?”

  “Yes,” replied the Seer, “and other cultures hold similar beliefs. Even today, people living in distant lands cherish the sound of the Atlantic waves as an echo of their departed forefathers and, disperse their kings and heroes to rest in the Western Land of the Blest. Across the great ocean, other cultures tell of foreign gods dispersing knowledge after the comet attack, stating their homeland was slipping beneath the ice. It was also rumored these ancient teachers wore a snake symbol on their robes.”

  “Just like ours?” asked a young student.

  “The same,” responded the Seer. “The serpent has always been connected with wisdom and healing. You have been taught that ‘The Swan,’ a snake coiled around the Tree of Knowledge and Wisdom, is an ancient emblem of a fully enlightened being. Many societies recognize the serpent’s power in their ritual vestments. The ancient Egyptian scepter of rejuvenation is a rod topped with a brass serpent.”

  “Master, if the Druidic Order existed for centuries, why do they say it is a recent creation?” asked a more inquisitive student.

  “What they say may hold some truth,” replied Imergin. “Around 3150 B.C.E. the Druids, fearing another comet impact, deserted these lands. Prior to leaving they decided to preserve their knowledge by sharing it with a chosen group of people from different cultures, some from as far away as the Mediterranean. Their prediction of a comet was correct but it landed in the Mediterranean with less destruction than feared and spared the Atlantic coast. Over time, waves of former inhabitants began to return, a sign of the sacredness of this land. The earliest returnees reestablished the Druidic Order.”

  “As for our connections with royal families, over the centuries, Ireland has been strengthened by input from three ancient, powerful, royal lines; the Scythians, Egyptians and the Hebrews. In 1360 B.C.E. the first Scythian-Egyptian marriage occurred between Niul, Prince of Scythia, and the daughter of Pharaoh Smenkhkare of the Eighteenth Egyptian Dynasty. Merytaten-tasherit, in becoming a Princess of Scythia, was called Scota. Coming to Ireland their descendants would become the High Kings of the Picts, Irish, and Scots.”

  “The second Scythian-Egyptian marriage was about 600 B.C.E between the daughter of another Egyptian Pharaoh, Nekau (Nechonibus) and Prince Galamn of Scythia. They also came to Ireland and their son, Eire Ahmon, became the forbear of the Kings of Ireland, and later of Scotland.”

  “Links with Israel’s royal family occurred in 585 B.C.E. when the prophet, Jeremiah, came to Ireland following the destruction of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon. Accompanying him was the only surviving member of the House of David, a princess named Tamar (Teamhair) Tephi who married Eochaidh, the High King of Ireland. For centuries Eochaid’s successors were crowned in the presence of the sacred Stone of Destiny. Jeremiah also brought the temp
le treasures. Some say it was Jeremiah who established the Druidic colleges.”

  “About three hundred years later, the Tautha De Danann (Tuadhe d’Anu), known as the Dragon Lords of Anu, or the Royal Scyths, arrived in Ireland. Considered one of the most ancient races on earth, they were tall blond or red haired people with green eyes. These ancient people brought with them several magical items or talismans including oval balls of crystal, called Serpent Stones, and the Serpent’s Medallion, a powerful amulet which was worn by the Arch-Druid. The Romans were likely also after these magical talismans.”

  “Master, what happened to all these treasures?”

  “Long ago, all but the Serpent Stones and the Serpent’s Medallion were secreted behind a magical veil, a power of the Ancients which our Order still possesses. It is prophesized that these items will remain behind this veil until the ‘coming times’ in the future when a prophet or prophetess of Tara will release them. As you know, my dear students, the sacred duty of our Order is to protect the ‘times beforehand’ and the ‘coming times’. We have had centuries protecting the ‘times beforehand’. The attack on Mora signaled the closure of the ‘times beforehand’. We now face centuries of preparation before the ‘coming times’.”

  Realizing the impact of the Mora attack a student asked, “Master, what happened to the Arch-Druid’s Serpent’s Medallion, for its powers alone could be catastrophic in the wrong hands?”

  “Do not be alarmed, it is safe. Prior to being assaulted, the Arch-Druid secured it within a magical spell which only another Arch-Druid could break.”

  “Are the Serpent Stones now in danger as well?” asked another.

  “The Serpent Stones, which all Master Druids possess, are being rounded up and will be placed behind the magical veil. But the Serpent’s Medallion has to remain in this dimension, awaiting the signal of the return of magic to this arid world. However, since this is centuries away, to stifle its powers and prevent it falling into the wrong hands, the medallion is being dismantled as we speak. The crystals are being dispersed to the female Druids, a group the Romans do not recognize.”

  Hesitantly, a student inquired. “Master, are we going to be killed?”

  “That’s possible, my son, unless you are very clever. Understand your life as a Druid is over. From this day, you must remove all Druidic insignia and blend into the communities for, I can assure you, this persecution will not cease in your lifetime or in that of many of your descendants. You will be fortunate to escape its wrath.”

  Sensing their discomfort, Imergin talked on, “Until this attack on our sacred college, we thought we were safe, as Druidic leaders were renowned for their knowledge in religion, philosophy, jurisprudence, education, astronomy, and medicine. Our magical powers astounded our enemies. Many royal families and elite Romans sent their children to our sixty colleges. But none of these matters now as the Romans intend to destroy us.”

  Grasping the ramifications of the danger their Master was imparting, the students sat restlessly looking at each other, a few stared into the distance.

  To soften the blow, Imergin decided to share his vision of the future. “Stay concealed for many years. In time, some of you and/or your descendants will find a home in Celtic Christianity. These Nazarene Christians, followers of Joseph, the brother of the prophet Jesus, will have familiar views on mysticism, nature, creation and family. Life will still be precarious as the Romans will decree that membership in either the Druidic or Nazarene communities to be a capital offence, punishable by death. Nevertheless, here your descendants will find a haven for almost five hundred years. In the seventh century the Church of Rome, a relic of the Roman Empire, will send a person to Britain to stamp out the Celtic way. Nevertheless, Druidic ideas will continue in Ireland, Scotland and Wales for another ten centuries hidden in the folds of the remnant of the Celtic faith and an order of monks called the Culdee. Since Celtic priests and Culdee monks marry, their children will eventually become members of a select number of leading Irish, Scots and Welsh families, identified secretly as the ‘sacred gentry’. Throughout the centuries the Serpent’s Medallion will remain dormant, protected by your descendants for, even up to the 1500s, the Church of Rome will denounce all magic. By the mid-1600s, life which had been precarious in previous centuries, will become intolerable for the Guardians.”

  Pleased his diversionary tactic was working, he continued, “After many centuries, names of lands, as we know them, will change. Much of the Pictish land will be known as Scotland, and much of the land south of it, will be called England. By the mid-1600s the English will have occupied part of Scotland by force, establishing troop garrisons along its entire east coast. English ships will patrol the coast. The conquered will require passes for any travel, and gatherings greater than three will be condemned. The English campaign against the Irish, this Sacred Isle, will devastate the country. Forty percent of the population will be reduced due to war, famine and disease, with countless numbers transported to other countries as slaves. Irish troops will be forced to leave and will serve in foreign armies. Religious trials will terrify the remaining citizens, who will be forced to report anyone or anything. Despite these dangers, a small courageous group of your descendants will risk a secret rendezvous to protect the medallion.”

  “Eight Guardians will travel by boat to a clandestine meeting at the Palace of Birsay, a residence of the Earls of Orkney on the extreme north-west of the Mainland of the Orkney Islands. The two-storey, stately palace with its central courtyard and large stone towers overlooking the great ocean will offer a safe haven for this auspicious meeting. Fearful of the ramification should the Serpent’s Medallion fall into the hands of ruthless political or religious leaders, the Guardians will establish a plan which, they hope, will protect the medallion for the next three hundred and fifty years, until the prophesied ‘coming times’. But the plan will impose a major sacrifice on some of them.”

  Caught up in the story, one student enquired, “What kind of sacrifice, Master?”

  “Four of the younger couples will be asked to leave their homeland forever to live in a newly discovered continent, called America. They will make this sacrifice out of family duty, not because of our ancient Order, for by then, we will be little more than myth.”

  Realizing the enormity of what the seer was saying, one student wondered aloud, “But Master, if the crystals are removed and some sent to distant lands how will our descendants know how to reconstruct the medallion, activate its powers or even know how to safely use such powers in some distant time?”

  With a gentle smile, Imergin replied, “As guardians of the ‘coming times’ it is our duty to make sure there is some secret knowledge retained for such an event. Your spirit must be so strong that once triggered, your descendants will understand where to go and what to do. Our task will certainly be complicated by the passage of time and the lack of magical skills of our descendants, but it will come to pass.”

  Knowing their white robes were now conspicuous targets for their enemies, Imergin beckoned his students to quickly follow him down the Hill of Tara. Leading the robed group, the seer continued to reassure them, “Come, I will teach you how to become invisible, how to specifically strengthen your spiritual skills and together we will create a system that will survive centuries of magical darkness. Be assured, our spirits will be there to help our descendants awaken the Serpent’s Medallion in the ‘coming times’, for that is our destiny.”

  Chapter 1

  * * *

  Canada: Halifax Health Science Centre, 2012

  A golden snake slithered out of her grandmother’s trunk. Angi knew this thrice-repeated dream was a cosmic harbinger but she couldn’t interpret its message. “If I even mentioned such a dream,” she thought, “a psychologist would spend days tramping through my sexual fantasies.” But Angi knew otherwise. From childhood her grandmother had taught her that such dreams held fateful prophecies.

  How well she knew that old trunk which sat beneath the bay
window in her grandmother’s bedroom. A family heirloom, passed down through the centuries. The wooden, rectangular box with its oval lid and black metal straps and hinges looked ancient, its mystery enhanced by a worn brass lock, opened with a skeleton key kept hidden by her grandmother. While the exterior had faded over time, the interior retained much of its original texture. Angi’s only access to this mysterious box was in the presence of her grandmother, a stipulation which remained even when she grew up.

  The dream haunted her. “Why a golden snake? Damn,” she thought, “Gran would have this translated before my first sip of morning tea. Thankfully, my vacation begins in a few days and she can enlighten me.” Running late, she shifted to more practical matters. Dressed in a white lab coat over operating room greens, Angi moved rapidly along the hospital corridor heading for security.

  “Hi Gus,” said Angi, “always good to see you on a holiday weekend.”

  “Yah,” replied Gus, a middle-aged, heavy set, ex-policeman, “it should be a lively one. I bet your looking forward to your holidays?”

  “Just five more days,” said Angi “and I’ll be back on my precious Island for some R&R. I need it; the past weeks have been hellish.”

  Gus pushed the electronic sign-in slate towards her as he handed her a managerial electronic tablet called Airmid.

  “Don’t know what I’d do without this baby, Gus. It’s a God-send. In an instant, I can access the status of patients, beds, staff, supplies; get information on medications, treatments and the latest medical news. In addition, I can call up those darling robotic porters. How did they ever do it in the past? It must have been a nightmare.”

  As she signed in she noted the large warning at the top of the slate; a penalty of $300 for forgetting to return the tablet at the end of the shift. Few managers made the first mistake, fewer still a second.