The Iron Bound
Page 6
“I’d ask if you’re okay, but you’re up at two in the morning and reading Beowulf,” Nicki observed drily. “I have a hard time believing that it was so riveting as to demand that.”
“I had a dream,” Alex answered honestly. She closed the book and set it on the small table between the armchair and couch. “It felt a lot like the tunnel dream. Sort of a floaty feeling, but lots of details and really clear.” She shook her head and sighed, letting her head fall back against the back of the couch. “I have the horrible feeling that I’m forgetting something important.”
“Did you write it down?” Nicki pushed off the wall and walked over to sit on the edge of the couch by Alex.
“Yeah, I did; I’ll type it up and send it to Merlin, Morgana, and Bran tomorrow, just in case any of them had the same dream.” She paused and licked her dry lips. “It’s odd but I think… I think I may have been on a prison ship.”
“A prison ship?” Nicki repeated with a hint of surprise and interest. “Any particular reason?”
“Just… I don’t know. It popped into my head during the dream. It was an old-fashioned ship, like the ones in pirate movies. 17th or 18th century or something like that, but there was this smell coming from the hold.”
“Maybe fish.”
“I doubt I’d dream about an old fashioned fishing boat,” Alex scoffed. “No, this was an ocean crossing ship; two masts and big sails… I heard voices from below I think. There were people down there and…” Alex furrowed her brow trying to remember the details. “One of the sailors yelled at them to be quiet and they did.”
“Maybe.” Nicki reached over and put her hand over Alex’s, giving it a soft squeeze. “Look, you won’t solve it tonight. It may have just been a dream. An ordinary instance of your brain trying to tell you a story while you sleep.”
“I don’t think-”
“And even if it wasn’t,” Nicki interrupted, “You had the dreams of the tunnels numerous times, so if it is important then you’ll probably have the dream again.”
“I hope not.” Alex dropped her eyes from Nicki’s, not able to face that intense stare. “That place gave me a weird feeling. It was pretty at first and a nice change, but I don’t know.” She pushed a tangle of blond hair back behind her ear. “It was like a shadow settled over me or something. It made me feel sick.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Nicki promised. “I mean come on, we found the Holy Grail, remember? Grail Hunters have been trying to find it for centuries and we found it in like two weeks.”
“We had a lot of help,” Alex replied drily. She couldn’t help but smile at the pride in Nicki’s voice. “It also helps if you know you are looking for an ancient Celtic artifact rather than a Middle Eastern goblet.”
“Details,” Nicki dismissed. However, she looked pleased with herself for managing to get a smile. “Look, Alex, try to relax. It really might have just been a normal dream. A lot has happened lately and I’m sure our subconsciouses are trying to keep up.” She paused and softened her tone. “Besides… it was better than the nightmares right?”
“Yeah,” Alex agreed. She licked her lips as her mouth suddenly felt super dry. “It was.”
“Okay then.” Nicki stood up and held out her hand to Alex. “Can you try to get some more sleep?”
“I… yeah, I probably should.” Alex sighed in defeat, taking the offered hand and unfolding her legs.
Nicki tugged her up and then proceeded to half lead/half push her back to her bedroom. The other mage lingered by the door as Alex crawled back into bed. As nice as the mattress and pillows felt, Alex couldn’t help but tense up a little bit as she caught Nicki glancing towards the open notebook.
“Goodnight,” Alex said, pulling Nicki’s attention back to her.
“Good morning you mean.” Giving her a warm smile, Nicki reached for the light switch. “Get some sleep Alex. I’ll see you later.”
Then the light was off and the door closed. Alex watched the light from the living room slipping in under her door for a moment before that too vanished. Nicki’s door closed and she was left alone in the dark with only her thoughts for company. Restful sleep felt very far away.
6
The Strangers
115 C.E. Sør-Trøndelag, Norway
The wind off the fjord was the same as before. The smell of the village was the same. The people were the same as before, at least in appearance, but there was a shadow over his village; something he couldn’t see and didn’t know how to fight. Something intangible had changed in his home, and Thor hated it. Helplessness and confusion didn’t sit well with him. Even now as he went about his normal tasks he couldn’t escape the feeling. It seemed to go the village itself, into the fields and fjord.
Thor shifted back and shook his head as a heavy sigh escaped him. Turning around, he grabbed the bound bundle of thin logs and began moving back towards the village with quick steps. A wooden wall now encircled roughly half of the village where there had been none before. Men at work on the wall and in the fields were carrying swords and axes that he’d been busy making for the last moon cycle. As he walked back towards the village his own sword hung at his side and lightly hit his thigh with each step. It was a comforting weight, but one he found himself resenting.
Pushing those thoughts from his mind, Thor walked through the unfinished section of wall and towards his own longhouse. A flash of blue in the corner of his eyes made him pause and he turned to the right curiously. There was a pair of unfamiliar figures moving up the path towards the village, both of them in cloaks that billowed in the wind. Around him, the others paused in their work and looked up at the strangers.
Erlendr and Thor’s father began to move to meet them, both seeming at ease, but Thor could see the tension in his father’s shoulder. He couldn’t remember such a small party traveling to the village, and certainly none in times like this. His own eyes returned to the strangers and his body tensed, ready to jump to the defense.
“Welcome strangers,” his father greeted. His tone was pleasant but demanded attention. “I am Jor.”
“Greetings,” the first of the figures answered. He nodded and reached up slowly to pull back their hood. “Thank you for the welcome.”
The man had gray curls with the barest hint of red like Thor’s own natural hair and sharp brown eyes. He regarded the village with a curious and sorrowful look. For a moment his eyes followed one of the young boys as he crossed the village with an armful of wood. Thor tensed up slightly as he watched the stranger move further into the village with his long gray cloak sweeping around him. Others around him were on guard as well, but the stranger didn’t seem concerned.
His companion was a woman with a stately bearing and long dark hair bound up in a long plait over her head. Intense green eyes were sweeping across the village and a small tight frown marred her otherwise attractive features. A pin with three connected curving arms was fixed on the long blue cloak she wore. Like the man, she didn’t seem at all worried about the fearful and distrusting looks that the armed men were giving them. Instead, she almost seemed amused or bored with them.
Nothing about them was too strange; they wore ordinary clothing, yet there was a sense of power and… something else. He wasn’t the only one picking up on it. Thor could see several others in the village looking unsettled by the strangers. He wondered just what it was; it didn’t feel bad or wrong. It just… hung in the air around them, like a veil of mist that separated them from the rest of the world. Shaking his head, Thor became aware that he was staring, and lowered his eyes before he drew attention to himself. In his chest, there was a strange itch to approach and find out what was happening, but his aching muscles stilled the impulse for the day at least.
Thor kept eyeing the strangers as they spoke with his father and Erlendr as he moved towards his workshop. He pulled back the animal furs protecting the workshop and grimaced at the darkness creeping in around him. The sun was beginning to set so he swung the bundle of wood off his shou
lder and began stacking it beside the forge. Thor noted that the harsh heat that had burned throughout the day was almost completely gone. Smoke lingered on the walls of the workshop and his clothes, but the day was well and truly done.
As he stacked the wood, Thor did a mental inventory of the supply and the amount he had used each day. Thus far the season was proving colder than normal, making it harder to keep the forge hot enough. His supply would get him through the next day, but at some point, he was going to need to bring some of the village children along if everyone continued their current demand for iron weapons and tools. He was done stacking the wood and was covering his workbench when he heard someone moving up behind him.
“You are the local blacksmith?” the woman asked. She looked him over as Thor stood up and turned to face them.
“I am one of them,” Thor answered calmly. He turned to study her, but she had already looked away from him. “You’ve already met Erlendr who is the other.”
She nodded, still not looking at him. Without another word to him, the woman examined the pile of iron axe heads and the two rough swords on the bench. A flare of irritation blasted through Thor and he frowned at her. Drawing himself up to his full height Thor glared at her back and grit his teeth. Thankfully the man stepped forward and offered him a slightly softer smile.
“Please forgive my companion; we’ve been traveling alone for some time,” he said in a warm voice that sounded a little forced. “I am Merlin and she is Morgana.”
“Thor,” he offered politely. He turned his full attention to the man and met the unfamiliar brown eyes.
His workshop melted away as the scent of a thick forest enshrouded him and he eyed the unfamiliar trees. Soft morning dew settled on his face as sunlight filtered through the canopy above. He could hear the rustling of the leaves and birds all around him. The air tasted differently and he could feel something brushing over his skin. Panic clawed at his chest; he gasped for air and then thankfully the world fell away once more.
“Easy lad,” Merlin said in a much warmer voice. A surprisingly strong grip guided him down onto the bench. “Sit down.”
“Well.” Morgana chuckled, sounding amused as Thor lowered his head and blinked his eyes. “The smith, that is interesting. A pleasant surprise.”
“That confirms the situation.” Merlin patted Thor’s shoulder almost fondly. “New mages are being born. As strange as Erlendr’s descriptions of the creatures may have been, we may be once more facing our old war.”
“But it can’t be the Sídhe,” Morgana insisted. There was a strange, sharp note in her voice that made Thor’s shoulders tighten. “They can’t enter the world.”
“We’re some distance from Arto’s Iron Gates, perhaps far enough.”
“Ridiculous, you felt the magic the same as I did.”
“What-” Thor gasped out, his fingers digging into the wood bench. “What was that? Who are you?” he demanded as his strength began to return. He forced himself to look up only to find Morgana’s green eyes focusing on his face. His stomach knotted and he felt his own power surging uncontrollably in his chest.
He was suddenly on a tall, unfamiliar hill with a strong wind rolling across his shoulders and ruffling his hair. A water soaked plain with numerous small islands filled the land before him with the glistening sea beyond. He breathed in the thick and familiar smell of the sea as a strange sound threatened to draw his attention.
“At least that is out of the way,” Morgana said.
Thor swayed on the bench, the world still spinning a bit. The flutter of power in his chest was stronger than he’d felt before, but it felt wild and slipped away from him like a wild brook. Swallowing back the fear and confusion, Thor took a deep breath and straightened up. The old man Merlin was looking at him with a hint of amusement and Thor grabbed onto the surge of anger spinning through him. Standing up, Thor drew himself to his full height and frowned at the man who now stood a few inches below him. Merlin regarded him calmly, seemingly unconcerned with Thor’s aggression.
Suddenly the blast of a horn echoed down through the valley making Thor tense. He noted that Merlin and Morgana both straightened up and their expressions turned cold, but he strode past them. Outside of his workshop, the sun had begun to set and a chill had settled into the air as the last rays of the sun vanished. The other men were gathering together with torches and their weapons drawn in the center of the village. Two of the women were running forward and laying wood in the large new fire pit next to them. One of them pulled out softly smoldering coals and tossed them onto the piles of dried moss.
It caught in an instant, and as the flames began to lick at the large pieces of wood Thor turned and looked up towards the mountain. Another blare of the horn brought the other men out of their homes with their weapons at the ready as a few small points of light began to appear on the mountain. In the corner of his eye, he spotted the strangers Merlin and Morgana leaving his workshop. On the tip of his tongue were the words accusing them of being in league with the strange things about to descend, but he couldn’t force them out.
Frightened silence took over. The women and children fled towards the side of the village protected by the new walls. Thor shifted towards the unfinished openings with the other men. His fingers were tight around his sword, and he flexed them carefully as soreness began to invade. He was aware of Merlin and Morgana moving to join them, and a few of the men giving Morgana looks of surprise, but none of them said anything. Arvid caught his eyes with a hint of worry and curiosity.
Then the sounds of something moving out in the fields drew their attention. Everyone was still as more of the lights appeared out of the trees and drew closer. A strange relief that the creatures weren’t carrying torches and lighting the fields on fire washed through Thor. They arrived at the edge of the walls together like a violent wave against the rocks of the fjord. Their glowing stones fell from their gold-covered clawed hands as they grappled for their weapons. One of them screamed in pained rage as its black eyes reflected the glow of the fire.
“By the ancestors!” Merlin shouted behind him. His voice was thick with shock. “What the- what has happened to them?”
“Ha!” Morgana laughed with a hint of triumph. “Finally you suffer for your crimes!”
Thor struggled to catch his breath. Too much was happening. More creatures rushed Merlin and his expression hardened. Green sparks flared brilliantly around the man, casting strange shadows on his face that made his eyes glow and his nose seem long and sharp. Thor froze in place as he watched the stream of green light spin around the man as it followed the movements of his hand. Then Merlin pushed his hand forward and the sparks surged through the air, forming a dozen bolts of green light. They blasted into the group of creatures, shattering through their golden armor and sparking screams as three of them began to dissolve into dust.
A strange glow to his right made Thor turn. Morgana was surrounded by rings of silver light that were illuminating half of the village. The rings lazily spun around her as she glared at the oncoming horde of creatures. They snarled, made pained, broken noises, and then charged. Thor saw Morgana flick her wrist towards the creatures. The rings around her suddenly lashed forward through the air and crashed into the creatures with brilliant flashes of light. Three of them went down with screams of pain and began to decay before his eyes into mounds of dust.
His eyes were wide with shock. For a moment Thor couldn’t move. There hadn’t been time to consider the strange visions in the forge, but that power and glow were like his own. Villagers were drawing back from Merlin and Morgana as the pair continued to strike down more and more of the creatures. They were swarming around the pair like flies around a rotting animal in the woods. Magic flashed brilliantly around them and Morgana shouted something as a dark look crossed her face. A whip of silver light collided with two of the creatures. They vanished, crumbling to dust. Morgana turned sharply towards yet another one as Thor and the others just stood there in muted shock.
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Then somehow, as quickly as the tide of creatures had risen and crashed into their village, the last of them was being stuck down by a green orb thrown from Merlin’s hand. His throat tightened as Thor took a step towards the strangers. Questions were burning on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t seem to make his mouth work.
“Who are you strangers?” his father asked. His voice was weaker than Thor had ever heard before. A moment later his father was next to him and gesturing at the piles of dust. “What were those things?”
Merlin and Morgana ignored his father completely as they turned towards each other. Thor couldn’t help himself and took another step towards him as the others were drawing back. Small sounds of life were returning to the village behind him and he knew the others would start whispering soon enough, but he was straining his ears to hear the strangers.