by Kate Forsyth
‘Och, that’s right,’ Captain Tobias said. ‘Ye were born hereabouts somewhere, were ye no’, young Tam?’
‘Aye, sir.’
‘Do ye ken where we are?’
‘Well, sir, if I be no’ mistaken, those two tall rocks along there, sort o’ leaning against each other, they be what folks round here used to call the Two Lovers.’
‘So do ye ken where these caves might be?’
‘Aye, sir, but truly, if the tales be true, we do no’ want to go into those caves. They say they be haunted, sir.’
‘Ye sound like a witch-lover, lad,’ Arvin the Just said sternly, ‘talking o’ haunted caves. Do ye no’ ken there are no ghosts?’
‘So the pastor used to say, sir,’ Tam replied equably, ‘but he also used to say all witches were evil and ugly, and indeed, sir, ye canna say that about young Bran, for she be a bonny lass indeed and sweet as a nut.’
His words caused Dide, Jay and Finn to start upright and Finn said indignantly, ‘What do ye mean by calling him a lass, Tam?’
The young sailor grinned at her. ‘Do ye think I be blind and foolish as a newborn pup? I been working and eating and sleeping alongsides the lot o’ ye for weeks on end now. I ken a lass when I see one, lass.’
Finn flushed scarlet and Dide laughed and slapped Tam across the back. ‘Indeed, I always kent Bran would never pass off as a lad, no’ with that skin and hair.’
‘Och, it were the figure I was noticing,’ Tam said with a grin, though he coloured up nearly as red as Finn.
‘What about me?’ Finn demanded. ‘How did ye guess I was no lad?’
‘Och, lassie, your figure be no’ so bad either,’ Tam replied. ‘Besides, I couldna help but notice how yon other lads were always looking out for ye two, and holding your hand when ye were afeared.’
‘I always said letting a passel o’ women on board would do us no good,’ Arvin the Just said gloomily. ‘We were doomed afore we even set sail from safe harbour. “All wickedness be but a wee to the wickedness o’ a woman”.’
‘Och, what is done is done,’ Captain Tobias said. ‘Is it no’ said that “a cheerful heart is a good medicine but a downcast spirit dries up the bones”? Please stop with your lamenting, Arvin, and let us think how to save our lives.’
‘We mun find these caves, and quickly,’ Dide said impatiently. ‘Already the waves are rising and we sit here and flap our jaws. We’ll worry about the ghosts when we encounter one. Tam, ye mun lead the way. Come, let’s get moving.’
They struggled over the rocks with litters made of broken planks, carrying those who could not walk, as the wildly tossing waves splashed their faces with spray and made the rocks beneath their feet even more slippery. Finn walked at the head of the expedition with Jay and Tam, the elven cat riding on her shoulder. As she walked she often glanced up at the towering cliffs, searching for a place where a climb to the top could be accomplished more easily. Several times they had to wade through deep rock-pools or scramble over great boulders near as large as a cottage, and once a wave caught one of the sailors and swept him off the shore. They managed to pull him to safety but all were shaken by the close call, and hurried their step.
At last they came to a narrow crack in the rock where a shallow stream of water tumbled out over slime-green rocks and down into the sea. Donald tasted the water and then, with great excitement, pronounced it fresh. They all drank eagerly, and no water had ever tasted as sweet as that brackish liquid from the heart of the rock.
‘How much further to these bluidy caves?’ Nellwyn asked, easing her swollen feet in the cool water.
‘We be here,’ Tam said. ‘That be the entrance. They call it Auld Clootie’s Cleft.’
The Yedda looked at the crack with disfavour. ‘The cave canna be very large. Shall we all fit in?’
‘The cave be huge,’ Tam said. ‘If the tales are true, it runs for miles and miles all along the coast and under the land. Some foolhardy lads tried to explore it with ropes and lanterns. They came out at Lucifer’s Leap, sixty miles north-west o’ here, those o’ them that survived.’
The Yedda withdrew her feet, dried them on her skirt and put her stockings and shoes on again. ‘Well, I be no’ afraid o’ ghosts,’ she said calmly. ‘Ghosts are naught but a psychic memory o’ some powerful emotional energy. They canna hurt ye unless ye let them and most can be banished by filling a place with laughter and goodwill. I swear if I can find a place to rest my weary bones I’ll be generating enough goodwill to banish a thousand ghosts, no matter how malevolent.’
Tam looked at the crack with disfavour. ‘Well, so long as we do no’ go too far in,’ he said and helped one of his fellow sailors to heft up a litter.
Dide went first so he could conjure some fire to light their way. When he squeezed through the high narrow crack, he gave a low whistle of amazement as he held up the ball of witch-light. Finn pushed her way to the front of the queue, her hazel green eyes alight with curiosity. As she clambered through, she too let out a little gasp.
The cave beyond was enormous. Dide’s ball of silvery-blue light was barely able to illuminate the furthermost reaches. It was far larger than the great banquet room at Rhyssmadill, larger than any hall Finn had ever seen. Down its centre wound the shallow stream, forming little pools here and there that glimmered blackly.
By the time all had clambered in, Dide had lit another fire, using dried seaweed and driftwood they had gathered along the way as kindling. They ate a sparse meal, and Donald tied hooks onto fishing lines in the hope they would be able to catch some fish off the rocks.
‘And I warrant those screeching sea birds wouldna taste so bad roasted over a slow fire,’ he said with a grin. ‘Lucky I made sure my bow and arrow were tucked into the long boat.’
After lunch they made further plans for an expedition to go in search of Lachlan and the Greycloaks. Now they had shelter and fresh water, everyone’s hopes had risen that they might still be able to get out of the shipwreck alive. It was decided that Dide should be the leader of the expedition, with Tam as their guide. Otherwise the exploratory party would include Dillon and his dog Jed, Finn, Jay, Ashlin, and a squad of sailors. They were to take with them most of the rope, the compass, and as much food and water as they could carry. Those left behind in the big cave would be able to hunt and fish to supplement their diet but it was unlikely that those exploring the caves would be able to do so.
The afternoon was spent resting, making torches from driftwood, torn material and lamp oil, and making up packs of supplies. At last all was ready, and the party set off with much false cheer and optimism.
They followed the stream, that being as good a place to start as any. Deep into the cliffs they clambered, sometimes having to scale high rocks where the water tumbled down in a little cascade. The roof continued lofty and elevated so they had no need to bend or crawl, which made their passage easier.
They rested often but never for long, very conscious of the need to make haste. The compass was rarely out of Tam’s hand and many times he paused to try and judge where they were in relation to the geography above ground. They had no way of telling the passage of time so far underground, and this only increased their anxiety. Soon it felt as if they had been clambering through the cave system for days on end and all grew impatient to breathe fresh air again and feel the sun on their skin.
The walls began to narrow dramatically, and the ceiling closed down upon them so they were climbing a steep stony passageway, the rocks all slippery with moss. Soon they had to crawl and all were unable to resist feeling rising panic. When they were having actually to slide forward on their elbows through the icy-cold stream, many began to suggest it was time to turn back.
‘Are ye sure this is the way the men ye kent came?’ Dide asked Tam and the young sailor nodded, his face white under all the mud. Dide instructed the majority of the party to wait where there was room for them all to sit and he crawled on alone.
It was not long before he was calling to th
em all to follow and rather reluctantly they shouldered their packs and again began to creep up the low passageway. It was difficult to keep the torches dry and so they were doused, leaving only Dide’s flickering blue light to see by.
They clambered out through a small damp hole into another cavern, all wet through and shivering with cold. They huddled together under their few damp blankets and at last fell into an uncomfortable sleep.
Dillon was the first to wake and he roused the others roughly. Dide summoned fire to light the torches, which had been laid out to dry on the stone. To their horror, one of the sailors, a sturdy man named Jack, could not be woken. He was dead, his flesh white and slack and cold as ice. Examining him under the fitful light of the torches, they found three dark puncture holes up near his ear.
‘This happened to some o’ the men I kent,’ Tam said rather shakily. ‘There be a big black bug that lives in these caves and feeds on warm blood. They say its drool stops ye from feeling pain so ye do no’ even ken ye’ve been bitten, and if it spits at ye and it gets in your eyes, ye’ll lose your sight. They call it the assassin bug.’
There was much angry muttering among the men, and Dide said rather sharply, ‘I wish ye’d mentioned this bug afore, Tam.’
‘I was only a laddiekin when they tried to explore the caves,’ Tam said defensively. ‘I did no’ remember till now.’
‘Is there anything else ye do no’ remember?’
‘How am I meant to ken until I do remember?’ the young sailor retorted.
They divided Jack’s pack up amongst the rest of the party and hurried on, unwilling to break their fast with the dead man lying there beside them. They ate later, all keeping a close eye out for bugs.
They were now in a system of small caves, all connected by short passageways. Many times they could have left the stream to explore up a side passage but all were unwilling to leave their only link to the outside world, even though it meant they were not ever able to fully dry off. After several days of constantly wet feet, some of the men were finding big blisters forming on their skin where their boots chafed but they bound them up as best they could and stumbled on. Jed the dog whined miserably, his black-patched white fur stiff with mud, his tail slunk down between his legs.
They came to a tall natural archway and paused to thrust their torches in, wrinkling their noses at the odd smell. There was a sudden high shrill shrieking, a strange leathery rustling noise, then they were all plunged into darkness. A few of the men cried aloud in alarm and all leapt back. The rustling noise slowly died away and then there was silence, a heavy, humid, ominous silence. Dide lit his torch again and slowly, cautiously, peered within the chamber.
‘Bats!’ he cried. ‘Look, thousands o’ them.’
As he stepped forward into the chamber, the bats once again took flight, shrieking in dismay. Dide’s torch was again snuffed out but he brought witch-light to life in his palm and raised his hand high. All the others could see was the blaze of roiling blue-white energy, the shadow of his arm and body, and thousands of tiny black shapes with sharply serrated outspread wings darting all about him.
‘Come in,’ Dide whispered, ‘but tread carefully. The floor is all mucky.’ They obeyed, tiptoeing through the pools of bat guano that covered the floor. ‘The stream leads upward again,’ Dide whispered. ‘Do no’ fear, bats willna hurt ye. I will light the torches again once we are free o’ their home.’
Gingerly they clambered up the rocky stairs at the far end of the cavern. Occasionally one of them uttered a low but heartfelt curse as they put their hand in something soft and squishy.
Beyond was another sequence of small caves, also occupied by bats. They filed through them slowly and cautiously, following the stream as it tumbled down over slippery grey rocks. At last they came out into another great cavern, almost as big as the cave by the sea. All cried aloud in joy, for far above their heads they could see a circle of dark blue light that twinkled with stars. The stream poured down over the lip of the hole in thin ribbons of water that gleamed with starlight.
‘I ken where we are!’ Tam cried in amazement. ‘This be Hell’s Gate. We have come an awful long way, near sixty miles by my reckoning. Hell’s Gate be up near Lucifer’s Leap. They say that on certain nights o’ the year the demons o’ the Archfiend escape from hell through this hole and fly about the sky all night, seeking the weak and sinful to tempt them from the way o’ the Lord. They say their wings blacken the moons, there be so many o’ them. I remember as a lad my brother once dared me to throw stones down the hole to see if we could awaken a demon, and a whole flock o’ bats came shrieking out. We dinna stop running until we reached home.’
‘Well, we canna do much about getting out until dawn,’ Dide said when he stopped laughing. ‘Let’s grab some sleep and we’ll see if our wee cat can climb out when there’s some light to see.’
They slept more comfortably than they had since the Speedwell had been sunk, despite the dampness and hardness of the stones, sure they were close to getting out of the caves at last. They would then beg, borrow or steal some horses and ride as fast as they could for Kirkinkell and the Rìgh’s army, and all would be saved.
The dawn brought a brutal end to their hopeful imaginings. They all stood and stared up at the circle of blue so far above them and raged in despair. It was clear to all of them that no-one without wings could get up to that small hole into the open air. The walls were more than a hundred feet high, sheer as glass and slick with spray. They curved in sharply to the roof, so that any climber would have to crawl twenty feet or more whilst hanging upside down from the ceiling.
‘I might have been able to do it if I had my climbing equipment,’ Finn raged. ‘Why, oh why did I no’ think to make sure it was thrown into the boat with my other stuff?’
‘How were ye meant to ken?’ Dide said wearily.
‘I saw the cliffs from the boat,’ Finn cried. ‘I should’ve kent I would have to climb at some point. Now it’s all at the bottom o’ the sea, all my rope and tackle and my spikes and hammer. Och, how could I be such a porridge-head?’
‘No use fraitching,’ Jay said, though his voice was heavy with disappointment. ‘Those other explorers could no’ have got out this way either, yet Tam said they got out somewhere near here. There mun be some other way.’
Unhappily they shouldered their packs once more and retraced their steps, groaning aloud as the soft natural light once more gave way to darkness and the close, fetid air of the caves.
They reached the cavern of the bats and made their way through another high stone archway they had not explored before, carefully piling a small pyramid of stones by its entrance so they would know where they had been.
They heard a soft rustling sound, a gentle murmur like the wind through a forest in autumn. In the flickering light of the torches they looked at each other in mingled hope and fear.
‘It could just be more bats,’ Ashlin said.
Dide nodded. ‘Aye, I’d say it’s just bats.’
They walked on, pressing close together in their eagerness. The roof began to slope upwards and then they stepped out into yet another wide cavern, raising their torches high to try and pierce the darkness.
There was a rush of sound and motion, a black whirlwind of shadows that blew their hair into their eyes and snuffed out the torches. They huddled together as Dide tried without success to re-light the brands, each spark he conjured just sinking away into nothingness. He gave up with an impatient oath, cupping his hands and bringing witch-light springing up in his palms.
Finn screamed. Hovering all about were tall dark figures, thin as twigs, with huge batlike wings, staring down at them with great slanted eyes that shone with a peculiar blue light. The sailors fell down on their knees with strangled cries, muttering garbled prayers, holding their crossed fingers before them in the age-old sign against evil. There was an angry murmur from the shadowy figures and they closed in, lifting their long bent fingers as if to seize them.
&nbs
p; Startled, Dide let the witch-light die. As darkness plunged down upon them once more, many among the little party cried aloud to their god and wept for mercy. There was the sound of swords and daggers being drawn and Dide once more conjured light, crying, ‘Back to back, lads!’
Alone among all the men, Dillon had not drawn his sword. He was staring at the tall shadowy figures with joy and amazement on his face. As Dide raised his dagger to throw, Dillon cried, ‘Nay, nay, drop your arms! They be nyx. Do no’ harm them! They be nyx!’
For a moment Dide was frozen in astonishment, then he seized the arms of the men closest to him, forcing them to lower their daggers. Dillon did the same and after a moment Finn joined them, though the men were filled with superstitious fear and horror.
‘They be demons,’ one cried.
‘The Archfiend’s minions,’ shouted another. ‘Look at their black wings and evil eyes.’
‘Nay, nay, they be nyx,’ Dillon repeated. ‘Faeries o’ the night. They are our allies; one o’ their kind signed the Pact o’ Peace. Ye must no’ harm them.’
As the men lowered their weapons, the nyx stirred and rustled, drifting away from the little group of humans. They muttered among themselves in their own strange language, then one drifted down and stood before them.
He was tall, almost twice as tall as Finn, and his leathery wings covered his body like a cloak. His black hair hung all down his back in wild elf locks, matted with leaves and twigs. His dark face was long and narrow, and dominated by his enormous slanted eyes. Although they were black as ink, his eyes shone with an unearthly blue light like those of the elven cat perched on Finn’s shoulder.
‘Who are you, that you know the nyx?’ the faery asked. Although he spoke their language, they had trouble understanding him for he spoke in such a low, hoarse voice and with such a strong accent.
‘They call me Dillon o’ the Joyous Sword. I ken one o’ your kind, an auld nyx they call Ceit Anna. She lives in the caves under Lucescere.’
