The Mission Begins

by Kevin J. Fitzgerald

  “Mother,” he looked at Maycroft. “Weren’t you just the other day telling me about a large white Dove you saw sitting atop one of the ridges?”

  “Blimey!” she exclaimed, and brought both hands to her mouth. “So I was! It was the south ridge! I almost forgot!” She laughed excitedly, looking around the room. “A huge, white thing it was! Beautiful bright against the dull background! That was how I noticed ‘im to begin with!” She talked a few more minutes as Runnelwood looked at Paladin and the others with raised eyebrows. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. The three travelers stared at one another in a kind of reverential awe. Even Frenjoo seemed to sense the significance of this. Hearing this suddenly infused them each with a fresh sense of calling and purpose—perhaps close to what one might describe as fate or destiny!

  When all the talking was complete, a long pause hung in the room. Runnelwood stood and said, “And so . . . You are seeking what we call moul cuilmh. The secret entrance to Ecad-hah, Eucon tells me.” Perhaps Runnelwood meant it to sound like a question, but what came out was more of a statement, now that he had heard their tale. “The world of the elahs,” he concluded in a whisper. He sounded like someone who wanted to stop talking, but who understood they were just now coming to what really needed to be discussed.

  Runnelwood paced away from the table, rubbing his back. The others followed him with their eyes, eagerly waiting to hear what he would say. When he spoke, his voice sounded old and cryptic in the dark. It was not what any of them expected to hear. “There are tales told,” he said. “That long ago one of our kind, one of the chendrith, accidentally wandered into this place and never came out. And that somewhere, deep within the heart of shehker plan-aho, this chendra encountered something. . . something. . .” Runnelwood trailed off, shaking his head. He turned to look at them. “And that the chendra became something horrible and tortured.”

  Paladin saw that Runnelwood was almost in tears now.

  Beside him, Frenjoo shuddered and swallowed hard.

  Maycroft held Rolo’s small hand in hers.

  Eucon nodded. He’d heard this tale before.

  “That place,” Runnelwood pointed into the dark, “is altogether evil. I have seen it. It reeks of fear and death. And I tell you not this tale to discourage you from venturing in. No,” he said, coming back to the table and standing over them. “To the contrary. I for one believe you have been sent, Rabbit. You and your companions, here,” he nodded. “And we will do whatever we can to aid you on your way. Now come,” Runnelwood said. “We must rest. We have much to discuss, and it is already late. No clear decisions will be made by those who are so tired. We will prepare beds for you, and you will take your rest. But tomorrow . . . we plan. And then to set out for moul cuilmh.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “Sweet Parting”

  As Runnelwood said, he and Maycroft quickly but efficiently prepared beds for Paladin and the others. Before long the weary company snuggled warmly within the den, asleep almost as soon as they lay down. They awoke late the next day and breakfasted well. Runnelwood and Maycroft were excellent hosts and made sure their guests (if they could rightly be called that) were well looked after. It was a day for resting and preparation—not so much preparing in the sense of stores and provisions, but with the much-needed mental and physical preparation they all felt the next leg of their journey would demand. As Runnelwood and Maycroft figured (and she was sure to express this on several occasions), it would most likely be “a long while before they ate as well and passed the night in as decent a place as they had with us badgers!”

  Runnelwood and Eucon sensed that entering the Glen and making their way toward moul cuilmh needed to be done as secretly as possible. They passed most of the day indoors, resting when they could. At one point, Runnelwood led the group up a long, winding secondary passage—a “back-door” of sorts for the badgers—and onto a porch overlooking the Glen. He pointed out to them the direction they would travel that night. It was then they had their first real look at the Poisoned Glen itself. It was named well, for indeed it seemed the entire region had somehow become poisoned.

  It covered the land before them, a barren and sun-scorched blotch that betrayed no sign of life, save where the Emunah trickled into its maw, a remnant of where it had once run with glorious splendor. It looked like the bitter remains of a crop, long ago ravaged by locusts, and stretched on until—in the far distance—a dark line of mountains spanned the horizon. Looking upon it, Paladin suddenly recalled a quote he had heard the Son read from one of his books long ago: “Not a tree to hang a man, nor water to drown a man, nor soil to bury a man.”

  That was the Poisoned Glen.

  It was like a huge crater, a giant impression in the earth—perhaps a footprint left by some ancient god that once roamed this part of the world. Standing down the slope from them a bit, and off to the left, Paladin spied one last tree standing like a sentinel, silently guarding the entrance to the Glen. The tree leaned forward, away from the Glen, perhaps permanently bent by the harsh winds that blew. Halfway up the trunk, the tree had two great limbs: one bent toward the ground; the other— directly opposite it—toward the sky. Stemming from the tips of these branches, and atop the tree itself, were smaller bunches of limbs, fanned out like fingers and shaggy hair. Indeed, the great solitary tree had the appearance of standing with hand raised in warning to those who might consider traversing the Glen. Without knowing why, Paladin was struck by the sight of it. It had an ancient, lonely, and somehow faithful, appearance. It looked like one of Tolkien’s Ents.

  The early hours of the day passed slowly. Now, as they looked across the Glen in the weakening afternoon light, the minutes raced by, bringing the time they would depart the safety of the badger’s den ever closer.

  “You will rest throughout the remainder of the day,” Runnelwood said as he led them back through the passage to the badger’s den. “And then begin your march across the Glen at first sight of the moon tonight. Eucon will lead you,” he continued. “Maycroft and I will stay behind.” (It should be noted that this was not because Runnelwood and Maycroft were unwilling or afraid in any way. But mostly, it was because anyone they might have encountered along the way [as the badgers did know a few who ventured into the Glen from time to time] would know these two badgers had no dealings in the Glen. By Runnelwood’s estimation, it might present an opportunity for undue questions to be asked. Though he could not explain why, Runnelwood felt adamant that they take steps to not solicit suspicions regarding the mission. The others agreed with him on this point.) “Besides,” Runnelwood said as they re-emerged into the underground den, “Eucon knows the way just as well as I do.”

  “Yes,” the raccoon agreed. “Besides,” he added smugly, “unlike Runnelwood and Maycroft here—two very stable badgers indeed—no one will think twice about seeing me in the Glen: a single, adventurous soul like me!” Eucon playfully thrust out his chest and clapped Runnelwood on the back. Paladin noticed a pained expression pass between the two. “If anything happens to me,” Eucon said, “I won’t be leaving anyone behind.” With that, the company all looked around at each other and became silent.

  When afternoon came and went, Maycroft set before them one last meal. Then they were off to bed in the storeroom for what little rest they might find, trying not to think of the task set before them.

  It will be hard leaving the badgers behind, thought Paladin. The rabbit was restless. Beside him in the dark, Frenjoo and Rolo tossed and turned. More than once, he heard Frenjoo whispering to himself. Eventually, their movements stilled and their breathing slowed. They slept, and Paladin was glad of it. With the fading light coming into the storeroom from the den, Paladin heard Runnelwood and Eucon still discussing last-minute details around the table. He wanted to join them. As he lay there listening, he wondered if he would ever fall asleep.

  Sometime later, he was being wakened by the fuzzy snout of Runnelwood in the darkness. “Come on,” the badger whispered. “It�
�s time to get going.”

  Paladin stumbled into the main den area, where he found the others already gathered. Apparently he had slept hard, and was the last to join the party. Despite the unshakable weight he felt upon himself, Paladin was delighted that Maycroft had prepared one last snack for them. She gave them all something to drink, which warmed them up immediately, and after drinking it they all felt wide awake and alert. Movement came from the mouth of the cave, and Eucon entered. Paladin hadn’t even noticed the racoon wasn’t among them until now.

  “Morning, everybody!” Eucon licked his lips, and smiled.

  Before long, the travelers left the warmth of the badgers’ cave and set out into the cold night. But not before the badgers gathered ‘round them, lay hands upon them, and quietly whispered these words over them: “Glijshana sruhaun. . . Lohkan-dasah sheinturia,” a kind of prayer and blessing in their own dialect, the exact meaning of which none can tell.

  Eucon quietly nodded in affirmation, then embraced Runnelwood and Maycroft tightly. Indeed, embracing was something that Maycroft herself was fond of—especially of Rolo and Frenjoo. The two of them thought she might squeeze the very air out of them!

  Runnelwood took Paladin aside, clapped him on the shoulder, and looked into his eyes. “Hold true to your course, Paladin,” he said. “Do not turn from your road, to the right or to the left. Remember the words the old goat, Agabus, spoke to you. I sense that you have in some way been. . .” Runnelwood trailed off, searching for the right word. “Chosen,” he finally said. “For such a time as this.”

  Paladin listened intently. Then, it was time to go.

  As they set out, Runnelwood and Maycroft stood in the shadows of the entrance to their cave. Maycroft cried softly at their going; Runnelwood hugged her tightly with one arm. Each of the travelers felt the pain of parting as they soon made their way down the rocky shelf-steps nearby, and descended into the Poisoned Glen itself.

  CHAPTER 20

  “Across the Poisoned Glen”

  The Glen was not as hard-going as the travelers initially anticipated. Most of all, the terrain was lonely and desolate, like some hidden lunar landscape. Over time, the place seemed to close in around them, oppressive and profane. Paladin was grateful they did not make this trek during daylight. At least the night hid something of the nothingness around them. They left behind the stable surface of rock beneath their feet, and now tread upon a constantly shifting bed of gravel. The sound of their paws disturbing the pebbles beneath them seemed thunderous and insulting to the stillness about them. They did not talk. There was something about the night in the Glen that seemed to forbid conversation. And ever there was that lingering sense upon each of them to go unnoticed.

  Ahead of them, Eucon ambled along steadily. He was quick and nimble and Paladin admired the way he seemed to glide in front of them, more quietly than the others.

  He must be able to see as though it were broad daylight, Paladin thought, the way he’s moving!

  Quite obviously, the racoon had traversed the Glen before.

  Paladin was grateful for meeting him.

  But whereas, over the past couple of days, it had been refreshing to meet Eucon and the badgers, now—traveling at night along the Glen—one did not relish the idea of just who or what they might encounter.

  How long they traveled this way, just grinding along the gravel, one could not tell. It seemed hours. They took no rest and traveled until the moon, which hung very low and yellow in the sky when they first started out, rose high above them like a great, white spotlight working to reveal their passage to unwarranted eyes. Once, a bit frustrated by this, Paladin paused long enough to look up at it. He thought for one quick instant that he saw a dark shape fluttering away from where it had been exposed upon its bright background.

  “What is it?” Rolo whispered from ahead in the dark.

  “It’s nothing,” Paladin said, and quietly started after him again.

  They plodded along in silence again, until the moon began its patient descent to the opposite horizon. Those last, long hours seemed to go on and on. The weary travelers felt as though they walked in their sleep! Once, Frenjoo actually had been, stumbling, almost falling in the dimness. Rolo had been there to catch him and help steady him. The squirrel looked around with bleary eyes, and quietly whispered his thanks to the guinea pig.

  After some time, Eucon’s voice finally broke the silence, “Ah! Here it is!” He halted. “At last!” The racoon turned and waited for the others to catch up with him. “For a minute I was beginning to think I might have gotten turned around on the Glen! But, see?” He pointed. They looked down and saw a deep scar of darkness burned into the dull gray of the Glen’s gravel bed. “There’s a bit of a gully that we pick up here. There’s a small stream at the bottom that we follow for a while, and it brings us right up to. . .” He paused and looked at the others. He didn’t finish; he didn’t need to. It was one thing to whisper the name of moul cuilmh in the warm safety of the badgers’ den. But to speak it openly and unnecessarily out here in the dark and loneliness of the Glen seemed forbidden, as if to utter a curse.

  Without a word, Eucon began to descend the steep wall of the gully, going slowly so as to not lose his footing. The others followed in like manner. At the bottom, they were relieved to see the fading moonlight reflecting off the surface of a small stream of water. It was Frenjoo who started for it first, and would have plunged in straightaway if Eucon had not jerked him back violently. “No!” Eucon warned, and looked between them all. “No matter what you do, do not drink these waters!” Frenjoo licked his lips nervously. “These waters are. . . poisoned,” Eucon said slowly. He looked at the stream in dismay, and loosed his grip upon Frenjoo. After a moment, he turned and started away down the dark gully.

  The companions traveled along this even darker and windier trail of the gully for another long while, until the night seemed far spent. They were amazed at how long a night could last, and were blessed when Eucon finally stopped again. He seemed to listen for something the others couldn’t hear. On either side of them the walls of the gully rose steeply, frowning down at them. High above, the pale line of early morning sky could faintly be seen like a ribbon of blue. “We have come through the night,” Eucon said, looking up. Then he turned to face the others. “We are not far now.” He sounded relieved. “We have been most fortunate, and our passage has gone unnoticed. Come,” he said, sitting. “Let us take some nourishment. It will be easier to do so here than on the inside, and you will find you need it for your journey.”

  “Amen to that!” Rolo said.

  The others breathed a sigh of relief and greedily set about opening the bundles Maycroft had packed for them. The mere mention of food seemed to lighten their spirits and ease their weariness, as if their journey across the Glen had been a venture into some kind of otherworld where the familiarities of this life are not allowed, and now they had come through to the other side. (And, who knows, perhaps that is exactly what it had been!)

  They had nary taken a few bites when Paladin’s ears suddenly shot up and he rose to his hind feet. He sniffed the night air hurriedly.

  “What is it, Paladin?” Rolo asked around a mouthful of food. The others took no notice.

  “I’m not sure,” Paladin said slowly. “Perhaps nothing.” After a moment he sat again and ate his meal quietly, still listening.

  They finished their snack and traveled on, eyeing the small stream flowing nearby with great jealousy, longing for one small draught! But they heeded Eucon’s warning, and did not drink of its contaminated waters. They hadn’t gone far, however, when they came upon a huge stack of stones piled into the gully, barring their passage. Eucon inspected this carefully, deducing it must have been part of a landslide resulting from the unstable floor of the Glen high above them. He informed the others they would have to climb their way over to the other side on the cold, damp rocks. “We’ll have to go slowly,” he emphasized.

  Groans of discouragement came
from the other three. They were well weary by now, and longed to be done with the Glen once and for all!

  “Enough of that!” Eucon scolded them. “It wouldn’t do for any of us to slip and fall, and end up with a broken leg—or worse—at this point!” He shook his head and, still muttering under his breath, started up the embankment.

  Paladin offered to go last again, as he had done at the rocky incline where they first met Eucon. The others agreed, and within moments Paladin stood in the gully by himself, waiting—listening as the grunting of the others fell away into only dull sounds on the other side. Paladin couldn’t help but notice how much louder they had become since they first started out.

  Careless, he thought.

  As Paladin stood in the gully, the others all safely crossed to the other side, the world became much quieter now. For perhaps the first time since they started out upon this journey, the rabbit was afforded an unhindered listen into the world around them. He turned his large ears back up the gully the way they had come. A cool breeze ruffled his fur. Moonlight reflected off the small trickle of water as it wound its way down the slope like a silvery serpent.

  All at once, and without really knowing why, Paladin became unnerved.

  He rose to his hind legs and his ears stood high in the air. There was a noise in the otherwise quiet of the night. It echoed down the gully; clear, yet indiscernible. Like a shadow. Gradually, it seemed as if the walls of the gully drew in upon him. He stamped his hind feet, and crouched low to the ground. From somewhere high above, a small rock loosed and careened down the side of the gully. It splashed into the trickle of water nearby. He saw the ripples it created in the fading night light. Paladin wheeled around in the darkness and stared at the rock wall blocking their way. That was when—though it did not make sense to him, and he fought against what it would mean—something began to suggest to him that this wall of rocks was not the result of some random accident. Something told him that these rocks had been placed here, for the very purpose of hindering their progress.