4
The Valley of the Perfect Woman
But a mist rose out of the valleys, and he lost his way in the failing light, and fell down a ravine, hitting his head on the rocks. That night he slept on the rocks with a stone for a pillow, and the cold mist all about him. Yet his heart was still light: he was returning home.
And in the morning the sun melted the mist and warmed his aching bones, and he found a way out of the ravine.
He found himself in a strange upland full of crevasses with no familiar landmarks to guide him. For three days and nights he wandered in the harsh wilderness, until his clothes were tattered, his feet were cut by the sharp rocks, and he felt that he was dying of thirst. Now the whole world seemed hard and cold, and the very idea of the One or the Goddess seemed a mockery of his torment, and he cursed his life, and lay down
to die.
But on the third night it rained, and a little water pooled in the hollows of a rock by his head, and he drank it. Then he lay back and looked up at the stars, formerly so cold and distant, and they were blazing with frosty fire in a velvety dome which wrapped over the world like a cloak. Suddenly he heard the words, ‘The starry void is not barren; it is the Womb of Worlds.’ He did not know where he had heard the words before, but he felt sure that they were true, and he wept for joy at the wonder and mystery of Life, and fell asleep.
And at dawn, waking with new hope, he rose up and painfully picked his way between the fissured rocks until at noon he stumbled into a cleft in the rock and slipping, slithered on his back into darkness. But his fall was soon broken by soft soil and drifted leaves. Shakily he got back on his feet. Before him was a little hidden valley between sheer cliffs. As in a dream he saw there was a beautiful garden in the valley, and in the garden was a beautiful woman, sowing seed. He stood mesmerised, staring at her. She seemed to him in that moment the living image of the Perfect Woman in the icon, which he still carried next to his heart.
She stopped working, and looked up at Calibur. He walked down to her, but he could not speak; his mouth was dry with thirst. She gave him some water from her flask, and he drank, and thanked her fervently. ‘You look starved too!’ she said. Then she handed him a spade, saying, ‘If I feed you now, you must promise to use this spade every day, and dig my garden and make it bigger, or we will both starve.’
Calibur nodded and reached for the spade. He looked into her eyes, and she smiled, a perfect, transcendent smile. Then his head went light and his sight failed, and letting go of the spade he fell to the ground at her feet as one dead.
The Perfect Woman took him into her hut and nursed him back to health. It was spring, and soon his convalescence became a happy dream, and he almost forgot Rosa. He found it pure delight to dig the Perfect Woman’s garden for her and help her plant her rye and her carrots and cabbages. ‘I never knew cabbages were so beautiful,’ he said to her, and she smiled, and her loving presence seemed to enfold the valley and every living thing in it, just as the night sky had seemed to enfold the world the night before he found her.
By night they would watch the stars, the great cloak of the Goddess, or sit by the fire and talk quietly of the mysteries of Life upon the earth, and of their different destinies. Once, he brought up the subject of his great hope of old, that he would one day forge a great Sword of purity and redemption, a Sword of Truth which fused Spirit and Matter, and she did not laugh or scold, but said, ‘When the time comes, perhaps within the magic web of the Goddess’s wisdom you may be empowered to create this Sword of Truth. But before you could forge such a sword, you must learn the meaning of the mystic Rose and the Web of Life. And I think only in the land beyond the setting sun would you find the materials to make it.’
‘Where is that?’ asked Calibur.
‘In Avalon,’ she replied. ‘For it must have a great emerald in the hilt, and the blade, perhaps, must be of a metal not found in this world. To be a Sword of Peace as well as Truth, it must have a sheath as fine as it, to balance it and keep the balance of all Life. And who would be worthy to wield it? Would you?’ And he listened to her as he had not listened to his wife, because she believed in his dream of the Sword, and because he had seen her face as the angelic Goddess in the icon.
One night he showed her the icon, and told her his story, how he fell in love with the ideal woman he saw portrayed there, and how he had been moved with a great desire to find her. ‘For I knew that only with her could I fulfil my true destiny. For she would be my muse, and I hers.’ She listened to him speak with shining eyes, and nodded her head. She understood! Filled with hope, he went on to tell her of his dream, where her soul appeared to him beyond the veil, where kindred souls speak directly to each other. ‘And I vowed then to serve her always with undying love. And now, seeing you, I feel that the glowing soul I saw is yours, and I love you with undying love, and will serve you always, even to the end of the Age. And together we will forge the great Sword of Truth!’
She frowned, as if unsure how to answer, and Calibur’s heart sank like a stone. Then she replied, ‘Dear brother, you have seen the image of the Goddess in me; and that is good. But now you must see her in your own wife — which will be even better.’ And though Calibur found that hard, no, impossible, to believe in his heart, he tried to accept her words even as his soul sank into darkness. Now he had no enthusiasm for the vision that had burned so brightly a moment before, of forging the perfect Sword of Truth.
‘How can I go back to someone I left and pretend to love her, and forget you, and never have you?’ he asked at last, his voice thick with grief, his cheeks burning with shame at her rejection.
‘If you learn to love her, you will have the goddess. And if you have the goddess, in her you will have all women. I am no different, in essence, from your wife — no, it is true! I am just another facet of Her, one that your heart seeks, because it is the feminine half of your own soul, which you long for and miss.
‘For I am one in whose face men see that which they have lost within their own souls, and they are smitten, and desire to have me so that they can possess it again. But it is not in me; I am, in myself, not what they seek. I am a bright magic mirror for them; a muse, who helps them have faith in themselves; helps them believe what they need to believe in order to become whole and so fulfil their destinies. In my mirror they may read and remember the life they came into the world to live.’
‘What did you do before you came to this lonely valley?’ asked Calibur, to give himself time to recover from her reply, that he must leave her. His ears were still stinging from her words as from the lashes of a whip, kindly spoken though
they were.
‘I was a courtesan in the great city of Londinium, and danced the dance of the Seven Veils for men — and money.’
‘But, I thought you said you were a muse.’ He tried not to show his shock — and jealousy — at the thought of her being with other men.
‘It is the same thing, just on another level. And one day I grew tired of men who only listened to my words of inspiration until they felt good, then wanted only to take my body — as if in having my body they could possess that which they saw in my magic mirror. I could not give them what they sought: it is only found within. But men are lazy; they would rather pick flowers than learn how to grow them.’
‘So, you left?’
‘One day a rich merchant, who was besotted with me, said that I must become his wife or he would have me killed. I did not love him, though I was drawn to his power, knowing that he could give me everything I would ever need — except for one thing.’
‘What was that?’
‘He could never give me my own true Destiny. I would always be just his possession, always holding the mirror up to his greatness. And I knew I would hate him for that in the end. But I was tempted, for I did not want to end up starving in the streets — or dead.’
‘So, what did you do?’
‘I ran away. I left it all behind, the fame, the adulation, the security of gold and
silver, and fled into the wilderness, and one day I found this hidden valley.
‘And here, though it seems I am fated to live alone, I am happy, because I am close to the Goddess, and in Her time I know I will fulfil my true Destiny, and live the life that is already written in my soul, the life I came into the world to live.’
‘What will that be, do you think? Surely not just tending this garden!’
‘No, I have caught glimpses… your coming has reminded me of something. You speak of this Sword, and recognition leaps within me. One day our paths will cross again, I think. But for now: your life is bound up with your wife’s, so you must go to her, and learn to do reverence to her as you do reverence to me. Then you will see her soul glow, and in her you will find that you also have the Goddess; and in the Goddess you have all women; even me. And likewise, in you she will have all men.
‘But only with your wife will you find your True Destiny: only with her will you be able to forge the Sword you dream of.’
Now Calibur was downcast, and his heart was like stone inside him, and he did not hear her last words, or care about the Sword of Truth any more. And, saying he was tired, he laid the icon at her feet, went out into the night and wept among the roses which he had planted for her.
The next day she blessed him and told him, ‘Today you must set off to find your own village — and Rosa.’ His heart was heavy within him and the sun appeared dark to his eyes, for though he knew she loved him in the Goddess and he loved her, and they would always be friends if ever they met again, he still wished to be with her always.
She gave him back the icon, and said, ‘The Goddess is permissive, and knew your need for it. But She is also a good housekeeper, and nothing is forgotten; everything must be accounted for and put back in its place. So you must return, and seek your earthly love, while there is breath in your body.
‘One day, too, She may call you to honour your vow to serve me in some way. Meanwhile, remember me, and never forget: I believe in your true Destiny. I believe it concerns me also. That is why I send you away now — to find your destiny, with Rosa.’
‘If I do find my true Destiny where you are sending me, I will thank you for the rest of my days,’ said Calibur. ‘But that does not lighten my grief now.’ And so they parted.
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