The sun is setting, so we’d better start down to prepare for the ritual,” said Weluela, already packing the leftovers into a large, round wicker basket.

The family stood to shake out crumbs and fold blankets. They poured the uinom from the little silver cup lovingly onto the ground and carefully overturned the contents of the plate of food onto the grass in front of the chair.

“The spirits have had their feast, and we can go,” said Grandmother Anna, and the family started the hike back down from the grassy hill.

Once the sun fell below the line of the sand dunes, a mist and a chill began to settle on the camp.

“I forgot to bring a cloak,” Lucius confided to Aurelia when they were back at the tent. The rest of the family retied their hair and brushed and smoothed their clothes inside in preparation for the evening festivities. Everyone had a wreath of herbs and flowers for his or her hair, with long colorful ribbons hanging behind.

“Don’t worry about the cold,” said Aurelia with a mysterious smile. “We will be moving most of the night; anyway, there will be fires everywhere. This is the time to let go and trust in the spirits. Let the God and Goddess of the festival protect you and guide you. It’s the best way to experience our ceremony.”

Lucius thought briefly about the monks and brothers on Inissi Leuca, who would be at Vespers this very moment, and how strange they would feel to be where he was now. He thought Teilo would probably enjoy the novelty, but Justan would worry himself to a frazzle working out exactly how venial or mortal a sin he was committing. He offered up a silent prayer for himself, his friends, and for everyone at the festival:

Exaudi nos, Domine sancte, Pater omnipotens, aeterne Deus,
et mittere digneris sanctum Angelum tuum de coelis, qui custodiat,
foveat, protegat, visitet atque defendat omnes habitantes in hoc habitaculo.

Aurelia did not hear the words, but she caught his expression. “You are so serious!” she said, giving him a playful tickle in the ribs.

“You two run ahead and enjoy the evening!” said Weluela with a smile.

Lucius and Aurelia parted the tent flaps, leaving the others to their dressing. Lucius snuck furtive glances at Aurelia, noticing how the garland of roses in her hair set off the smoothness of her skin. Aunt Aude had produced a wreath of bay laurel for him, which he wore gladly, thinking it helped him fit in with the other celebrants. In the darkness, Lucius saw tiny twinkling lights dotting the hill where they had shared their afternoon meal with the family.

“What are all those lights?” he asked, moved by the spectacle.

“Those are candles and oil lamps set out to honor the dead. They too must have a little fire to cheer them on this night.”

They made their way to the center of the gathering, where a large crowd waited; for what, Lucius had no idea. Many of them carried lit torches, but others held massive tree branches topped by balls of linen soaked in oil and wax.

The beat of drums began softly at first and gradually built to a loud, steady rhythm. Flutes, cymbals, and voices started a hymn and, after what felt like an eternity, a group of dancers appeared, waving large branches of willow and other greenery. The singing picked up tempo and volume as a second group of dancers followed the first, wafting incense towards the crowd with black and white birds’ wings.

A couple appeared that Lucius recognized as the Goddess and God from earlier that day. They were dressed in flowing scarlet robes and had elaborate wreaths of flowers and ribbons on their heads. They moved in same abstracted way that they had earlier, as if only half in the waking world. Behind them was yet another group of dancers; these beckoned to the crowd to follow and kept the beat with cymbals tied to their fingers and bells on their feet. The large crowd slowly fell in behind.

The huge procession coiled out of the tent city towards a long avenue of stones. At intervals between the stone rows, men held torches aloft so that no one would fall. The drumming and singing grew even louder as excitement built in the crowd. Aurelia held tight to Lucius’s arm.

When the line of celebrants had reached the end of the stone rows the crowd parted, some going left, some going to the right, to fill a large circular enclosure at the end of the processional route. The dancers filled the center of the circle, rhythmically waving their branches high and then sweeping them low to the ground.

The God and the Goddess moved into the very center of the ring and began a slow, erotic dance as the other dancers circled the center of the ritual space. The drums picked up their pace and the singing grew louder again as the God slowly parted the robes of the Goddess and caressed her bare breasts so that everyone could see. The Goddess arched backwards as he kissed her breasts and her body, now bared fully to the crowd.

The drums pounded frantically, and the dancers whirled and leaped. The God entered the Goddess as they sank to the ground in a heaving, pulsing mound. As though sparks had flared from their bodies, couples took their cue and paired off into the surrounding bushes. Those who held unlit torches touched them to the torches already aflame and sped off into the darkness.

Aurelia’s grip on Lucius tightened. She looked up at him expectantly, her face flushed.

“You don’t … ?” he asked, blushing furiously and knowing that she did.

“Don’t be afraid. This is a festival of love. Every couple that joins in this ritual blesses the earth and strengthens the growing grain. Others across the land are in the fields now, making love in the furrows of their farms, under the full moon. The energy of our ritual fires is being carried by the torch bearers to villages in the distant hills. It is a time of magic! Can’t you feel it?”

Aurelia stroked his chest, felt his nipples under his tunic, and pressed her lower body against his. He did feel the magic; pungent warmth spread rapidly through him as he grew stiff with a hunger he had never known. He wanted her.

He took her hand, guiding her towards a dark patch of trees. Aurelia folded her arms about his middle and one hand circled the mound of his buttock, caressing it as they walked. Lucius was drunk with feeling; nothing else existed.

“Dominus vobiscum.”

The words were a cold bucket of sea water over his body. “What?” Lucius exclaimed, startled out of his dream.

“I said Dominus vobiscum. Surely you remember the response?”

Lucius wheeled around to find Martinus, Isidore, and Teilo standing there. Isidore moved quickly to push Aurelia roughly aside.

“No! Don’t do that!” Lucius yelled.

Aurelia cried out in shock and fear as Isidore moved her even farther away.

“These are good and loving people, you can’t treat them this way!” Lucius cried.

“Idiot!” growled Martinus, his hand reaching to grab Lucius by the hair. “You are in mortal danger and so is everyone else in this disgusting place! Teilo and Isidore, tie his hands, and we’ll take him back to the ferry. Drag him if you have to. He will be saved!”

Lucius’s hands were tied behind his back with Teilo’s belt and, since he wouldn’t stop yelling, Isidore stuffed his leather money pouch into his mouth.

“Sorry, Lucius, it’s for your own good!” said Teilo, already a dedicated convert to Martinus’s ways.

As they dragged him towards the beach, Lucius saw the results of their zeal. While everyone else had been attending the ritual, the three had ripped ribbons down from trees, overturned altars, smashed statues of gods and goddesses, and generally created as much mayhem as they could to disrupt the proceedings. They had set fire to the red tent and all of its contents, including the live birds in their wicker cages.

“No one will sing to the Pagan gods, drink to the Pagan gods, eat with the Pagan gods, or light candles to the Pagan gods! Not if I have anything to say about it!” Martinus fumed. “This whoring and debauchery will stop!”

They paid the waiting ferryman—who looked none too happy at serving them—boarded, and shoved Lucius down to make him sit. Lucius saw that the ferryman was trembling in fear, calling on Sucellos to save him. Martinus stalked over to the ferryman and slapped him hard on the face.

“You will be silent, man, or I will curse you to hell!”

The ferryman closed his mouth tight and bent to his work.

Martinus turned towards shore and lifted his hands. Fingers splayed wide, palms facing the mainland, he cried, “I order you daemones, by the powers of the God of Hosts, to leave this place! I command you in the name of Raphael, Israel, Ragouel, and Agathoel to leave! I cast a ring of protection around these people, around this place! Out, daemones, out!”

Teilo and Isidore were hugely impressed by Martinus’s evident magical powers. Lucius was horrified, his heart breaking at the thought of how hurt Aurelia and her family would be. Worst of all, they would think he had brought this upon them. Then he began to weep.