Ula and the Lion

When the Great War began, the women in my land were summoned.

“We each possess something — a secret gift, that, if combined, might stop doom from
engulfing our world,” Maeve wrote to me.

So, beneath the full moon we thirteen gathered at the round table. Together, high on the Crag of Eldur, the torch flames burned as we shared how our powers came to pass.

Edna pulled the Sword of Light from the Moon Tree.

Maeve was gifted her magic bow from the Shaman of the North.

Blair won her use of fire by tricking the sun.

Danu sang sweetly to the earth making mountains rise.

Others could whisper to the water, wind, or stars and bend them to their will.

“And how did your power come to be, Ula?” my sisters asked.

“Long ago,” I answered. “When I was a little girl, I met a lion…”

I ran through the forest along the sparkling stream, searching for fat, juicy brambleberries.

Nothing else tasted as sweet.

Not mama’s pies.

Not sugar.

It was the search for them that led me into the forest and up the mountain. I told sister I’d be right back. The bright morning turned to late afternoon and I could see my town, smoke coming from the stonechimneys in the valley below. Papa was out hunting for supper and I knew I shouldn’t be up here, where the hunters were, lest an arrow shoot me instead of a boar.

Once I was full of fruit, I tried to find my way back. But soon I was turning circles around the thicket of rowans and their blood red berries. At seven, it was the furthest away from home I had ever been.

Nightfall descended and the thought of mama’s goodnight kiss and my warm quilt made me whimper. I sat down at the base of a sequoia tree when the river was nowhere to be found. Hot tears tumbled down my cheeks and my stomach began to rumble, so I couldn’t hear the growl — not at first.

Then it came again, low and deep like thunder rising in the east before a storm.

I looked up to see two glowing eyes.

“Little girl,” the voice came from the darkness, soft as crushed velvet, smooth as skipping stones. “If you help me, I will help you.”

“Who are you?” I stood quickly, gripping the bark so hard it came off under my fingernails.

“Come, closer.”

Foolish as children are, I went.

I stepped into the shadows only to find a lioness caught in an iron bear trap. Her right paw bloody and clamped through with metal teeth. She was huge and warm, and her fur smelled like earth.

“How will I know you won’t eat me?” I felt my heart flutter. I had never seen a mountain lion, but knew they stole our sheep and goats if they wandered too far.

“I offer you my word.”

“And when I set you free? You’ll let me go, too?”

“It seems only fair.”

So, I crouched down by her golden fur and set the clamp free, as I watched papa do in his woodshed.

The lioness leapt forward, knocking me back.

I closed my eyes, sure I would die — when a bright silver light poured over me. So bright, I opened my eyes, thinking the moon had fallen from the sky.

The lion had vanished.

Instead a beautiful woman stood in her place. Glittering rainbow dust sparkled all around her, like the sun on the river at high noon.

“I am the Queen of this forest,” said the faery. “To reward you for your kindness, Ula, I will give you a gift so that your heart will always stay as pure as it is now.”

The faery helped me onto my feet and I stood, slack-jawed, staring. She closed her eyes, mumbled a few words in her language, then laid her hands upon my head. I felt a warm energy flow through my veins like hot tea on a winter’s eve.

“What is it?”

She pulled her hands away.

“The Command of Love,” she said. “As long as you live, so too you will be able to drive hate from the hearts of all.”

“And that is how I came to be.” I addressed the warriors around me. “I was born the day my power was given to me.”

The women turned to the army marching toward us, below the Crag. The spears and swords glinted in the sunlight.

We stood, our voices one:

“We She shall rise together, as we always have.”

Then there was only light, only love.

*This story was originally published by the British Fantasy Society in May of 2019 and was inspired by William Bell Scott’s “Una and the Lion” at the National Galleries of Scotland.*