The Hiding Place

As the old lady sat by her fireside she heard the noises from the attic, familiar noises, noises she had grown up with, noises her husband used to tell their children were made by 'the monster in the attic that eats naughty children.' Rubbish of course, old houses creak and groan, to do so is in the very nature of old houses, it is to do with the timbers settling, or something, and the woman would slip into the children's bedroom and tell them just that after her drunken husband had left the kids, frightened and trembling in their beds, to weave his unsteady course to his own.

The old lady hadn't been up into the attic for years, she had long forgotten what was stored up there. One day, when her eldest daughter and her husband deemed to put in one of their rare visits, she would get them both to sort it all out. They were such a greedy couple that if she were to hint that there might be something of value up there..... The old woman smiled to herself, the warmth of the fire had made her feel extraordinary sleepy, her head slowly nodded forward, and still smiling, she fell into the deep slumber called death.

Epona felt the life seep from the old lady. She wondered if now would be a good time to leave the attic. She couldn't hide up here forever, although being a Goddess she could, actually. Part of her Goddess remit was to help the departed souls onto the back of a pony so they could ride to...... here she ran out of 'knowing,' the ponies carried them off, that was her part in the deal, where they carried them off to....well, she had never even bothered to ask, it was a sister Goddess with a totally unpronounceable name's job to do the leading off. Since she had sought refuge in the attic she hadn't even kept up her part of the deal, and she was just beginning to worry about the back log of souls, and the number of ponies she would have to acquire to get them all mounted and safely ready for Goddess Unpronounceable to lead them to Wherever. Some of them might just have to make do with donkeys or mules!

Epona's thoughts turned once more to the old lady who's attic she currently resided in. Of course it hadn't been an attic when she had first come, it had been a sacred grove, the attic had sort of developed around her later. Epona considered the woman's life to be quite an ordinary one, rather boring really. OK, her husband had been a drunk, but aren't all men? Epona had even used her other skill, the fertility one, to make sure the lady had safely given birth to two children...girls. The husband was a horrid man, thankfully now dead, and quite honestly Epona was glad he had only fathered the two girls, the thought of a house full of males, taking after their disgusting sire, had filled her with dismay. She wound her arms around the only item in the dusty attic that was both familiar to her, and loved by her, a wooden horse. Set on wheels she had watched as the children had scooted back and forth, back and forth, on the wooden horse. It pleased her that her very own iconic symbol had given the little girls so much fun. But, of course, little girls grow up, and they had soon outgrown the horse. The drunkard father had disparagingly thrown the beautiful horse into the attic after a long and noisy row with his wife, a row in which the word 'firewood' had been mentioned by him on several occasions, the horse's rough treatment had resulted in one of  its ears snapping off.

She knew the soul of the woman was standing behind her before she even turned around to face her. In fact Epona had decided not to turn round at that moment, let the woman wait, as a punishment for her husband's desecration of the horse. The woman spoke, “Where's my pony then?” This time Epona did spin around, indignant, and she was about to rebuke the woman's lack of respect when addressing her Goddess when the woman, her face in its turn full of indignation and disgust, shouted, “For Pities sake, cover your tits girl, you look like a whore!” “What?!!” Epona shouted back, looking down at her bare breasts. The spectre leaned forward and pulled the material of Epona's tunic up and over her breasts. This had the rather disastrous effect of baring Epona below the hips. “Where's your drawers? Have you no shame, you hussy?” The woman continued to berate. Epona, pushing the woman's hand away, pulled her tunic down once more. She stared hard at the woman, at a complete loss as what to reply. After taking a deep breath she managed to come out with, “I'm a goddess, this is the way we dress, get over it, and get down on your knees before me, mortal.” “Aye, well,” replied the woman, who remained standing, “And I'm dead, but my sense of decency didn't die with me. So, where's my pony, and what are you doing skulking in my attic?”

Epona eyed the old woman critically, but deep within her felt a little taken aback. Her followers usually worshipped her when they were alive, and did as they were told when dead. But on consideration, Epona thought, the woman did have a point, she was entitled to a pony to take her to Wherever, and there obviously wasn't one available. However, that really was no way to ask a Goddess a question. Epona drew herself up, and ignoring the disgusted look and tut in the direction of her breasts, said, “I am not skulking! I'm in hiding, I shall in due course come out of hiding and arrange a suitable mount to take you......there.” 'Yes', thought Epona, with silent satisfaction, 'And your mount, woman, will be one of the scabbiest, bad tempered, kicker and biters I can find!' The woman was unimpressed with Epona's explanation, and giving a spiteful smirk asked, “Oh aye, and just what would a mighty Goddess be hiding from, pray tell?” Epona decided that a little bit of a fright would do this rude woman good, and rolling her eyes so her sockets appeared to be milky, misty tunnels, and putting on her special Goddessy Echo Voice she said, “And who is it that brings this question?” “Aha, oh dear, I see,” replied the old woman, “You're hiding because of your disability.” “What?!” Epona all but screamed, “Now, now, dear, no need to take on so, mine were just the same before I died, but they’re fine now.” “What?!” Epona was feeling somewhat panicky now. “Your eyes dear,” the crone said, “Them's quite thick old cataracts you have, and I can recommend a homemade recipe of honey and lemon, with a dash of the ol' whisky, for that sore throat too.”

Epona's legs gave beneath her and she sat down heavily, just missing the wooden horse. “'Ere!” Growled the old woman, “Be careful, that's my kids' pull along toy horse that is!” 'So,' thought Epona. 'This is what it is like to have tears welling up in your eyes, not pleasant, not pleasant at all.' Glancing up at the woman she whispered, “Alright, I'll get you your pony, but first you have to tell me, have the Romans gone?” “Romans?” Asked the woman in turn, but went on to say, “The Romans are part of history dear, they went ages and ages ago.” Epona felt the first tendrils of hope and joy rise in her heart. “That means I can leave now, I can get back to my loyal followers, grant them fertility for themselves, their animals and their crops, and if that fails, find them ponies when they die of starvation....and think up something to say to Goddess Whatsherface.”

Epona didn't like the way the old woman was sadly shaking her head, and resorting to what was fast becoming her 'catch-word', she asked, “What?” “Aint no-one believes in you now dear, no followers to go back to, I was the last. And what do I find? A half-naked sulky girl who don't do her job! I have to ask myself, was it worth all that praying and sacrificing, and a-weeping and a-wailing?” Extending her arm to the woman Epona demanded, “Help me stand, I'll get you your pony, I'll win back my followers, I've just got to get out of here....You'll see, everything will be good now.” The sly smirk had returned to the old woman's face, and she stood there, arms folded across her chest, once more shaking her head. “Should have thought o' that a long, long time ago, before acting the coward, the Goddess Rhiannon, the one you call Whatsherface, has retired, it's you what has to do the leading now, and 'cos I'm the last it's a one way journey, there'll be no coming back for either of us, and just where do you hope to find a pony up here, in my attic?” Epona glared at the woman and wondered if she wasn't really a demon sent to try her, and what was that? Whatsher...Rhiannon had retired? Could Goddesses retire? “What do you mean, Rhiannon has retired, where's she gone?” Epona asked, hoping that there might be a 'get out' clause from this dreadful situation. The old woman rolled her eyes up in thought, “Ah yes,” she said, “If I recall rightly, she's gone to Vegas, changed her name to Luck, or some such.” Epona didn't like the sound of that, 'Vegas' sounded a Roman word, if she stood accused of cowardice, then Rhiannon was a traitor, and Epona said as much to the old woman. The crone shrugged and sulkily replied, “Don't care much what you think, I just want my pony, we need to be getting on our way, I have no fancy to stay and haunt this rotten old house for eternity, not with you for company anyway.”

Leaning on the wooden horse for support, Epona attempted to get to her feet, wondering if she could strike the dead dead with a lightning bolt or two, but the wheels on the wooden horse chose that moment to spin into life, the toy hurtled forward and bumped the old woman across the back of her knees, causing her to fold, and then sit, side saddle on the toy horse's back. You don't get to become a Goddess without being able to think fast, and have a sense of humour, grinning broadly Epona announced to the woman, “Your pony, mortal, as required!” The old crone stared down in horror at her wooden mount, struggling to stand she found she was unable to, that too was part of the deal, once seated upon a pony supplied by the Goddess Epona you couldn't dismount until you reached your destination. “O, you are  joking?!” Gasped the crone. Still grinning Epona replied with a simple, “Nope!” Sighing with resignation the old woman nodded and said, “Alright, alright then, it'll have to do, anything's better than being stuck here with you, but, o mighty Goddess, grant me one boon.” Feeling extremely pleased with herself, Epona nodded in return saying, “Name it mortal.” Pointing with her chin, the crone voiced her boon, “Go in yonder trunk and get out an old nightshirt, it used to belong to me husband, it's clean, so no need to worry on that score.” Epona did as the woman bid, and brought her the nightshirt, “No, no, no, you silly child,” the woman moaned, “It's not for me, it's for you to put on, you never know who we might bump into on our way, I don't want folk gossiping about me being seen in the company of slattern with bared breasts.” Gritting her teeth Epona slipped the nightshirt on over her head, picked up the tow rope of the wooden horse and took a step forward.

The attic evaporated from around them. They were high, very high, up in the evening sky. Looking down Epona could see a patch work of fields and villages below. One by one lights appeared in the village houses and streets. It was beautiful, wonderful, but most of all it was not dusty and musty. A stiff wind whistled past them, streaking out Epona's long auburn hair and flapping her nightshirt, it also caught the words the woman was saying, pulling them away from Epona's hearing. Epona halted and spun round, “Now what?” She demanded. “I said,” shouted the old woman, “I don't suppose you had the sense to bring a shawl out of that old trunk did you?” “No,” replied Epona, I don't need one, I don't feel the cold like you mortals do, to me the wind is freedom, spirit, it's the...” “Yes, yes, yes,” interrupted the old woman, “No need to go all poetical on me, the shawl wasn't for you, it was, or would have been if you had thought about the needs of me, your last true follower, me. It's blooming draughty up here.....Figured out what direction we should be going in yet?” Trying to get her mind past the shawl, Epona, somewhat hesitantly, asked, “Don't you know what direction we should be heading in?” The woman gave an unexpected gwarff of a laugh and blurted , “Me mortal, you Goddess. Can't you get anything right?!” Epona threw the lead rope down in exasperation and stamped her foot, causing a long low rumble of thunder. This time the woman laughed out loud, “Dear oh dear, throwing a tantrum now are you, how's that supposed to help? Look, trying heading West, it's where the sun sets you know.” Through gritted teeth Epona snarled back, “I know the sun sets in the West, I'm not completely stupid you know, I just don't know why we should head in that direction.” The old woman shrugged and before answering tucked her tweed skirts closer around her legs, “Well if you can come up with a better direction, be my guest, but can we get a move on, that draft's getting to places it didn't oughta.” Heaving a sigh Epona picked the tow rope up and taking the strain on her shoulder, proceeded to trudge forward.

About a hundred or so years later they decided they weren't getting anywhere and changed their course to the East. In a hundred years’ time, they will in all probability try South. After that they still have two cardinal points of the compass to explore, and all those fiddly points in between. They will reach their destination some time, but in the meantime if you look up to the skies on a starry night you can just make them out, and if you listen carefully you can just hear them, arguing, chiding each other, “We've already come this way you stupid child, turn round, will you listen to me, go left, go left I say!” “Shut up, shut up, shut up!!”