High Kings and Vikings

Cormac reckoned that the appointment of a new Thane of the Learns was not so urgent a priority that he must go before Yuletide, now almost upon them, to give his report to King. Besides, he had been fairly swift in his carrying out of the royal command, so his journey westwards could wait, he judged, until after Twelfth Night.

His mother and sister had been making preparations in his absence, well used to this task, his Glamis people all co-operating. Great stocks of food and drink had to be gathered in for the feasting, the most considerable and all but continuous of the year. It was almost all derived from the pre-Christian ages of sun worship and druidism, to be sure, this mid-winter festivity, preparing to welcome the passing of the shortest day, and leading into the commencement of the new period of the sun's ascendancy, with the growing fertility of the land and the start of the breeding season of the animal creation, the leafing of the trees and the flowering of plants, to mankind's benefit and satisfaction. The fact that Christ's birth was also celebrated at this time was, of course, complementary, coincidental but apt to be rather swamped by the former pagan rites, however much the abbots and monks sought to emphasise the differences.

So the ice-houses had to be filled with beef and mutton, venison, fowl, salmon and the like. The mills were busy grinding grains, the brewers making ale, the backers baking oatcakes and bannocks.

The first of the twelve nights' activities was that of the Mistletoe Bough, on the twenty-third day of December, when the sun set two minutes later than it had been doing, signifying renewal. Mistletoe was the only plant which flowered at this time of the year in northern lands, parasite as it was, with its yellow petals and white berries, and like holly and ivy was esteemed as conveying promise of fertility and abundance to come. So its praise and augury was always honoured and exalted at this time, as the sun's forerunner and herald, its whereabouts always noted and cherished. And since it required a host tree to flourish, the branch round which it coiled itself had to be honoured also, hence the bough involved.

So that evening, with lanterns lit, Cormac led a party of the villagers and tenants into nearby woodland to a known and guarded hawthorn tree which acted host to a mistletoe plant. All men, they made a double circle round that bent and aged tree and, hands linked, danced around it, chanting. Then stepped forward, with Duncan, the latter carrying a saw. In the flickering light of their lanterns, it could be seen that the mistletoe had wrapped itself round two fairly slender branches, not apt for their purpose. So the long tendril, some four feet of it, had to be heedfully unwound and detached, care taken to ensure no breakage and none of the yellow petals and white berries amongst the leathery, oval leaves were lost, then this wrapped round a more suitable, thicker branch, with equal regard, the company watching interestedly. Satisfied, at length, cut with his dirk the stem of the plant about one foot from its base, for enough must be left to ensure that it continued to grow hereafter, and Duncan scrupulously chose where best to saw off the bough with its precious appendage, and went to work The fad that hawthorns were prickly trees did not lessen the need for care.

When branch and mistletoe were safely detached holding it high, all cheered, and recommenced the circling, lanterns swinging eerily. Then return to the crowded castle courtyard was made, in procession, where acclaim greeted their arrival. Fortunately it was a dry night, however chilly, for their ceremony, or what followed would have been a deal less effective and enjoyable.

The mistletoe bough was carried over by to a specially erected archway of saplings, over which the bough was ceremoniously placed. Then music struck up and singing commenced, and, with the required flourish, the Thane of Glamis placed himself under the archway and bough, and held out his arms invitingly. There followed a positive rush of women, jostling each other to be the first to enter those extended arms and be kissed beneath the mistletoe, young, of middle years and elderly, competition vigorous. Much of the kissing was equally vigorous, much open-lipped, with hugging and squeezing to match. This was not the first time, of course, that had gone through this experience, but never before as thane and prime recipient of the salutations, if such they could be called. He did not pretend that it was any sort of ordeal, and enjoyed, at the beginning at least, the female lips and tongues seeking his own, amidst gurgles and murmurs and deep breathings, the feel of rounded persons pressing against him, the clutchings and strokings - and all this by women who at other times were apt to bow respectfully to their lord and behave in modest seemly fashion. The Mistletoe Bough was especial, elemental, basic, as between men and women, just as its flowers were male and female, the enduring symbol and promise of fertility, the need for the one and the other for the continuance of the race - and the need and underlying joy of it.