by Sarah Coley
“How the hell do you know about that?” Owen replied, much to Eleanor's annoyance. She had no idea what was going on at the moment, but didn't want to give anything they'd experienced away until she'd had time to analyse it all. This Astel was clearly deranged and not in any position to help them.
“I do not know what this ph...one is that you speak of but I think you should come inside,” Astel responded.
Feeling Eleanor had little choice and not wanting to argue in the freezing cold weather, the pair of them entered Astels' house.
Chapter 5
Eleanor walked into the small sitting room of Astel’s house and became automatically aware of the welcoming heat from the fire in the hearth. She'd decided to humour this lady in the hope of gaining information as to whereabouts they actually where and what the hell was going on. With any luck, the portal had only shot them a short distance away from where they'd started, and Eleanor could recover her car with very few problems before kissing this nightmare goodbye.
Astel turned and smiled at them both before raising her hand to ask them to sit. As Eleanor surveyed the seating arrangements, there was one old fashioned looking arm chair with dark wooded ornate framing and green cushioning, and opposite was a long wooden bench. Eleanor figured the chair was probably Astel’s and so placed herself on the bench opposite with Owen following suit.
Astel walked over to the fire and started to stir a small cauldron with a ladle.
“Would you care for some tea?” she asked without looking round.
Owen turned to Eleanor as if asking permission. “Yes that would be lovely.” Eleanor replied. Owen seemed to relax with that.
Astel took two bowls and poured some of her concoction from the cauldron into each before passing them out.
“Can I ask what is in the tea?” Eleanor questioned, a little unsure what to do having never drank out of a bowl before. The tea definitely didn't smell like any tea she had ever had.
“It's a mixture of nettle and chamomile. I find it eases the stomach and calms the mind,” Astel replied. She turned and sat down on the green cushioned chair and looked at Eleanor expectantly.
Eleanor took a reluctant sip from her bowl. As the tea touched her tongue, it was as she'd feared. It tasted primarily of earwax with a hint of grass. She swallowed some in a rather loud gulp, and then put on her best fake smile. Looking over at Owen, he'd done the exact same thing.
Deciding she needed to get away from Astel and her interesting taste in tea as quickly as possible without seeming ungrateful, Eleanor put down her bowl and looked directly at Astel.
“It's really nice of you to invite us into your home Astel, but I was wondering whereabouts we are, and whether we can borrow a phone or wifi to contact some transport to get back to our car.”
Astel looked confused before placing her tea down.
“You are in the Elven woods in the Kingdom of Rogardium, and I do not know of this Phone or Wiffy, but if you require transport I have a horse around the back. Tell me, judging by your attire, am I right in assuming you're from Albion?” She looked straight at Eleanor in anticipation. Great, the lady was clearly one or half a dozen short of a few marbles.
“I’m sorry, Rogardium? Is that in Somerset and what is Albion?” Eleanor asked whilst shifting in her seat ready to make a run for it.
“Albion is the old word for Britain,” Owen replied. He looked over to Astel with new admiration.
“No my dear lady,” Astel laughed. “Rogardium is in the land of Avalon and is the only kingdom of men. If my presumptions are correct, you've come to this place through a portal. A gateway as it were.” Astel clapped her hands in excitement.
“I presume by portal you mean that insane ball of deadly electricity that Owen and I got sucked into. How do you know about it?” Eleanor replied accusingly.
“I cast the portal, from your realm to mine in the hope that a warrior from the land of Albion may once again raise us from the brink. I assume as you are here, it has worked and that you found a pendant?” Astel looked at Eleanor and then to Owen. Joy and excitement etched on her face.
Eleanor took the pendant from her pocket and angrily thrust it at Astel.
“Is this yours? Are you aware that there is a young man dead because of your careless insanity. Now I don't know who you are or where the hell this is, but I demand that you drop this ridiculous charade and tell us where we are before I haul you off to the nearest police station for murder.”
Eleanor was standing now and pointing squarely at Astel. How dare this lady play them for fools. Astel stood up and put her hand out in front of Eleanor, ready to defend herself if either of them attacked.
Owen, realizing the situation was getting tense, stood up and raised his voice speaking quickly to Eleanor.
“Please calm down a minute Eleanor. We don't know where that portal sent us or how Astel was able to create the magic we saw outside, but it seems she's the only one who can give us answers. There's no use walking off into the forest at this time of night in the cold and getting lost. Lets all just take a breather."
Eleanor's gaze never left Astel’s but as she realized the logic in Owen's words she carefully sat back down on the bench. Astel took at deep breath and seated herself back in her green chair.
“Your friend has a point Eleanor. There are all manor of creatures walk these wood at night,” Astel said.
“What like squirrels and angry PI's?”
“No, much much worse. Now back to your original bombardment. Yes, I did open the portal. Yes, I know a young man is dead although I assure you it was not my intention to kill the boy. I only cast the portal because Rogard is in such a dire state. It haunts me how I unwittingly took his life,” Astel looked at the floor.
“I very much doubt that,” Eleanor mumbled in reply. She'd seen her kind before. Crazy as a mad hatter and completely in denial of their own actions. It was no excuse.
“Believe what you want but that is the truth dear lady. As to where you are, you already have that answer. You are no longer in Albion. You are in Rogardium. That necklace that I placed in the woods in your realm would only react when the right person touched it. That person will help stop the kingdom of men from wing consumed with total destruction, and I believe that person is you.”
Owen creased his brow before turning to Eleanor. “It makes sense. The portal, the magic. We must have traveled to a parallel dimension. To another world, like ours but different in many ways.”
“Are you as bonkers as this fruit bat Owen? There's no such thing as magic, aliens or parallel dimensions. It's all just facts, and facts are telling me we have just lost our direction and we need to find my car.”
“What must I do to convince you dear lady?” Astel asked exasperatedly.
“Ok. Show me some magic. Show me this is all real and not just some messed up fantasy you've made up in your mind,” Eleanor egged on.
“Very Well,” Astel sighed before closing her eyes and placing her hand palm down in the middle of the space between them. She seemed to concentrate for a few seconds. Creasing her brow and almost shaking. Then, nothing happened. It was as Eleanor believed. This woman was mental and they needed to leave.
Just as Eleanor stood up to go, Owen reached over and firmly grabbed her shoulder, pushing her back down to seated. She looked over to him and he pointed towards the ceiling. Eleanor rolled her eyes and looked at the point at which Owen was so transfixed. As soon as she looked, her smirk faded, and her mouth fell open in confusion. Above where Astel had placed her hand was a small white orb. It was solid looking and brilliant white, reminding Eleanor of a snow ball in size. The glow from it was almost blinding, and small sparkles began to sizzle around it. It didn't move fast or ferociously, but instead hovered elegantly in one place. Then, when Eleanor was about to mention something, the Orb began to shrink and morph, turning a deep red before dropping to the floor as a perfectly formed red rose.
Astel opened her eyes and withdrew her hand before lookin
g at Eleanor with an uneasy calm. Tiredness was etched on her face.
“Well, that's an interesting party trick you've got going on there,” Eleanor replied, but the wind had gone from her sails. She could think of a way that what she had witnessed could have been created by anything other than through the use of, well magic.
“You're a mage aren't you?” Owen asked.
“Yes, I am the chief mage for the whole of Rogardium and charged with the task of protecting its people.”
“So, say this whole magic thing is real, and we're no longer on our earth,” Eleanor couldn't believe she was saying this, “why the hell would you come all the way to Glastonbury Tor to find us?”
Owen clicked his fingers. “It's obvious. Astel, you said this was Avalon right?” Astel Nodded. “Well, the ancient Glastonbury Tor is believed to be the place where Merlin brought Arthur after he was mortally wounded by Mordred. That whole event is what helped shape Arthurian legend. Merlin took him to Avalon so that he would rise again when we needed him most. It would make sense that Astel would be drawn there. Avalon isn't some heavenly place. It's a different land with magic,” Owen sat back in his seat looking smug.
“That doesn't answer the question as to why you brought us here,” Eleanor pressed.
“Arthur was our greatest leader but he did not survive his wounds. Merlin became grief ridden and shut himself away saying that when Avalon's need was greatest, Arthur would rise again to lead us to victory. But I am a realist. Arthur has never risen again despite our need of him, so I took matters into my own hands. Whoever took the necklace, would open the portal that brought you here. That person had to be strong of heart. A warrior to lead us against the darkness,” Astel was looking distant as she said this. Reliving some ancient event.
“And I'm presuming the Darkness isn't the good guys?” Eleanor asked flatly. She crossed her arms and began to bite her nails. Something she always did when she was in a situation way over her head.
“No, the darkness I'm referring to is that of the kingdoms of night. Goblins, Dearg, Evil spirits; all under the banner of the dread king Balor,”Astel replied.
“Wasn't Balor some Celtic monster with a Cyclops eye?” Owen asked.
“He does have one eye, and as many limbs as he likes as he's not made of solid matter. It is said that when his eye opens, despair and destruction does follow. Although luckily, he has not been seen for hundreds of years. ”
“And you think we can defeat this army?” Eleanor asked in disbelief, “Lady, I'm a private detective not King Arthur. You need a crime solving or an ex lover tracking I'm you're lady, but I'm no warrior.”
Astel smiled and sat back with a glint of wisdom in her eye. “The pendant wouldn't just open for anybody. It required bravery, wisdom, fearlessness and compassion to open that portal. You clearly posses these traits, and for that reason I feel the pair of you are the ones we've been waiting for.”
Owen looked over to Eleanor and shook his head.
“I'm sorry but I just don't buy this,” Eleanor responded.
Astel thought for a moment. “Consider this. Come with me to Rogard our capital, and see King Edgar and Prince Elian for yourselves. If you are still unconvinced, you have my word I'll transport you back to Albion.”
“What do you think?” Eleanor asked Owen whilst sighing.
He shrugged his shoulders before replying, “Well, it looks like we don't have much choice.”
Astel stood up with renewed vigor. “Excellent. I shall have beds made up for you to rest in, and then we will head out in the morning for Rogard. Now Tell me again, what are your names? Astel asked.
“I’m Eleanor and he's Owen.”
“Welcome to Rogardium Eleanor and Owen.”
Chapter 6
“Another report in for you Prince Elian.” Elian put out his hand and waited for the soldier to hand him the document he was dreading to read.
“Thank you soldier!” He replied without a thought before tearing open the wax seal of Rogard. He'd been surveying the border villages to the north of the kingdom for just under a week, and what he'd found was both confusing and disturbing. Despite substantial defenses around all the bordering settlements, the Goblins had managed to completely destroy several villages. There was no pattern to these attacks other than they occurred in the dead of night, and he couldn't fathom why one village had been selected to be raided whilst the next village along had remained unscathed. The Goblins had been raiding for years, but never with so much success or organisation. To make matter worse, they didn't seem to have taken anything of worth from any of their conquests.
Men, women and children had been massacred and left with gold and jewelry still about their person. Houses were burnt to the ground with everything still inside and untouched. The only thing that was missing were soldiers that were guarding the villages at the time. The Goblins where renowned for their slave trade with the evil men to the West, and Elian didn't dare think of what fate had awaited them. Whatever Sleugh, the King of the Goblins was up to, Elian was completely clueless to it. He just hoped Astel was having better luck.
Elian looked down at the handwriting before him. Orders from his father, King Edgar to return to the city immediately. Elian feared for his fathers health nowadays and had resented leaving him in the first place, but the people of Rogardium had needed him and the kingdom was what mattered. He started to roll the parchment back up as lieutenant Ethan came into his tent and sat opposite him.
“What are our orders my Lord?” He asked.
“The King asks that we return to the capital to discuss the situation further. He feels the threat is greater than we feared and wants to amass a larger army. Are the patrols in place as I asked?”
“Yes, my Lord. We've placed a garrison of 50 men at each surviving village, and have destroyed the raided settlements completely to ensure no dead begin to rise. There have been no new attacks whilst we've been here,” Ethan answered.
“Good. I don't know what Sleugh is up to, but I don't want to leave these people undefended. Inform the men that we leave in the morning for Rogard.”
“I will my Lord, and do not fear. Sleugh has been beaten before and he will be beaten again.” Ethan stood up and bowed his head before walking out of Elian's tent.
Elian folded up the last of his paperwork on his makeshift desk before standing up and walking towards his bed. It had been a long day, patrolling the last destroyed village. The images of dead bodies festering and rotting in a sea of flies was something that would haunt him for a long time. What he needed right now was alcohol.
He picked up his flagon from the table next to his bed and poured in some ale. As he took his first sip, his man servant Brandon entered the tent. Brandon was an aging man of 70 years with his simple tunic and thick bear cloak. His hair had long since turned white and wrinkles etched his skin. Elian had pleaded with the man to stay in Rogard for this expedition, fearful for the man's health but he'd only replied “ I served your father for 30 years through times of battle and peace, and I'm not about to leave his son to fend for himself.” Typical thought Elian. Stubborn as a mule.
When Brandon saw Elian drinking, he precariously raced over to the Prince. “ My Lots, if I'd known you were thirsty I would have poured you that myself. Would you care for me to undress you from this armor my Lord?” Brandon started to pull at the shoulder straps of Elian's armor, making light work of the pauldrons on his upper arms.
“Seriously Brandon, I'm perfectly capable of pouring my own ale and taking my own armour off. You need to be warming yourself near the fire in this cold weather.” Elian protested.
“I'm sure you are my Lord, but I wouldn't be doing my job effectively as your man servant if I let the Prince of Rogard get out of his armour like a common knight now would I.” Brandon scalded whilst pulling Elian's chain mail over his head.
“Will you ever relent man?” Elian asked already knowing the answer.
“Only the day I die my Lord. A busy man is a h
appy man. That's what my father used to say. Now, will there be anything else you require before I retire for the day my Lord?” Brandon asked.
“I think you've done quite enough for one day Brandon. Thank you.”
Brandon quickly bowed before heading back over to the tent doorway. Elian picked up his Flagon of ale again and was about to take a mouthful when he heard a light whistling and a sharp thud. He turned around to see Brandon turn from the doorway towards his Prince with a large black arrow protruding from his chest.
Without a word, the old man fell to the floor, breaking the arrow as he landed. Elian instinctively dropped his flagon and grabbed his sword. He wouldn't have time to place his armour back on before the attack struck, so he ran over to his old man servant who, on quick inspection had already passed into the fade. It was at that point the alarm bells started to ring and Elian heard men shouting orders before the clash of steel began.
Ethan entered the tent moments later, his sword was drawn and there was black blood dripping from the tip. The battle had begun.
“My Lord, you must come with me at once. We are surrounded on all sides and greatly out numbered. We need to get you to safety immediately.” Ethan was panting as he said this.
“I'm guessing by the blood and the arrows that the Goblins have finally struck?”
“Yes my Lord.”
“Has Morton been evacuated?”
“There wasn't time my Lord. They'd already attacked the village by the time we arrived. Our bloodied scout says it's gone.”
“Damn it. We need to move out and get further south. If we can reach the town of Brackon, we can get reinforcements.” Elian said whilst walking quickly towards the tent door.
“My Lord you are not in your armour.” Ethan pointed out.
“There's no time. Come.” Elian ran out the tent to see carnage everywhere he looked. Several of the tents were on fire and there was fighting everywhere. The bodies of his men lay all around mixed with the dead of the Goblins. There twisted cruel features and green skin marked them as the enemy. Elian could tell they were closing in. He had less than 40 men left by his estimations and any chance of escaping was quickly dwindling.
