The Dark Age

by Traci Harding

  ‘What art thou doing here, thou art ill,’ Tiernan declared, knowing she was going to dispute the issue.

  Ione flipped the fur cloak from her shoulders and flexed her muscles assuredly to imply that she felt fine and was raring to go.

  ‘I do not care, Ione, thou art staying here,’ Tiernan instructed.

  Ione, who answered only to the Queen, held up her middle finger in protest; Tory had been teaching her a few silent expressions of her own. She motioned to her mouth, adamant about her right to go.

  ‘I know thee owes him —’ Tiernan began.

  ‘She will be useful, Tiernan. She may come,’ the King intervened, then he dug his heels into Aristotle and rode out the stable doors.

  Ione gave Tiernan a smug grin as she took off with the others to pursue the King.

  The party sped across the white countryside. The snowfall had eased for a time and they made Llyn Cerrig Bach just after nightfall.

  Tiernan and Angus knew that the derelict site housed more than met the eye. Yet Vortipor and Ione were left to wonder why the King would ride for hours in the opposite direction of his foe to visit such a desolate place.

  ‘Maelgwn, old boy.’ Vortipor was quite sure the King had taken leave of his senses. ‘I hate to point out the obvious, but if thou art seeking assistance here, thou art about five hundred years too late. There be naught left but a pile of old ruins.’

  ‘Let this be a lesson to thee, Vortipor,’ the King answered, then turned and headed for the temple remains. Angus and Tiernan smiled broadly as they fell in behind the King and followed him towards the entrance. Neither had ever been granted entrance to what lay beneath the altar, but they had heard Brockwell and the King speak of the High Merlin’s abode.

  Taliesin hadn’t been informed of their arrival, yet the torches within the temple were lit and the top of the altar was free of snow. ‘It would appear we art expected,’ Maelgwn observed, taking a stand on top of the large stone tablet and helping the others up after him.

  No summons was required this time as Vortipor, who was the last up, barely had the chance to get on the large stone before the illuminated mist began to billow forth from the cross.

  Ione appeared ill at ease, so Tiernan thought he’d do the right thing and put his arm around her for comfort. This only served to score him an elbow in the side for his trouble. She looked at him sternly, standing firm, with her arms folded. If he wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t either.

  Vortipor, beholding the mystic event, began to laugh. The bright light bursting forth from beneath him felt like pure life force, it cleansed and empowered him as it penetrated every fibre of his being. ‘Dragon, thee never disappoints!’

  As the mist gave way to the great entrance room of Taliesin’s abode, the new arrivals were awestruck.

  The King didn’t share their elation. He thundered forward to address Taliesin, who awaited him with Selwyn. ‘Why hast thou not told me of this, old man? How could thee allow Tory to fall into the hands of Chiglas?’

  ‘Calm thyself, Dragon,’ the Merlin cautioned, appearing rather angered himself. ‘Do not blame me for thy shortcomings. The Queen warned thee only yesterday, which be far more warning than I had.’

  The truth hurt and only served to fuel Maelgwn’s fury. ‘Thee cannot tell me that the eminent, infallible, Taliesin Pen Beirdd did not know of this. What kind of a fool dost thou take me for!’ The King’s harsh words resounded around the room as he glared at his mentor.

  Taliesin slowly walked forward to address Maelgwn, and he appeared to be calling on such restraint to remain civil that it caused his whole body to tremble. ‘I cared for her long before thee ever knew she existed! Doth thou think for a moment that I would have gone to such pains with her, so that I could lose her to Chiglas?’ Taliesin calmed himself once more. ‘Understand that we art history in the making, my friend. From the time thee wed Tory and signed the pact with the neighbouring tribes of Britain, we entered an unknown future. How can I be expected to recall this incident in time, when it hast never taken place before?’

  Maelgwn realised that he had no one to blame but himself. ‘It would seem I am the fool, High Merlin.’

  ‘Nay, thou art human, Majesty.’ Taliesin placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘And if thou art through with feeling sorry for thyself, we can see to the rescue of thy Queen.’

  Before news of the abduction reached Brockwell at Degannwy, he and Rhys were approached by the young maid whom Sir Cadogan had vanquished on the night of Samhain. She appeared very ashamed of herself, not looking up from the floor as she quietly announced, ‘Call off the murder investigation, I know who committed the grievous crime.’

  Cadogan hadn’t pursued her since the festival and, sure that he had another lover, she’d been secretly observing the knight’s movements. ‘Please understand that to witness such an act ’twas a terrible shock.’ She began to sob. ‘That be why I have not come forth before now.’

  Brockwell, considering what Tory would do in his place, approached the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘We understand, please take thy time.’

  Rhys sighed at Brockwell’s patience. ‘However, we would like to catch the offender before he strikes again,’ he added, hoping to move things along.

  ‘He will not,’ she sniffled.

  Brockwell went down on one knee before her. ‘How art thou so sure?’

  ‘He be no longer here, sir. He was sent on an errand to Aberffraw yesterday.’

  ‘Cadogan.’ Both men resolved at once.

  Rhys rushed forward to question the subject more closely. ‘What just cause did Cadogan have to murder the soldier?’

  ‘I do not know, sir.’ She was flustered by his forceful manner and began to weep again.

  ‘Thee must suspect at least?’ Rhys pressured her harder.

  ‘Rhys,’ Brockwell stood and gently urged him to back up a little. ‘Please, permit me.’

  Rhys agreed to Brockwell’s request, moving to answer a knock at the door. He was handed an urgent communication from the King at Aberffraw.

  ‘Calin.’ Rhys appeared rather ill as he read. ‘Forget her, I know his motive.’

  ‘What hast happened?’

  Sir Rhys stepped forward and handed Brockwell the note.

  Calin read, then crushed the parchment in his hand. His eyes moistened with the thought of the horrors that may lie in store for the women he loved. He inhaled deeply to control the anger brewing within him. ‘Let us be gone, sir.’

  As usual, Taliesin insisted that everyone eat before he explained what he knew. Maelgwn protested, anxious about his wife and unborn child.

  ‘Thee may leave tonight, unprepared, or leave on the morrow with some hope of saving her.’

  ‘Explain.’ Maelgwn hated the fact that Taliesin always got his way, and the Merlin raised his brow, aware of this.

  ‘I shall, after supper.’

  Once the party had dined on the beef of two white bulls that had been slaughtered and cooked according to an old druidic tradition, the Merlin began to explain the reasons for their delay. ‘I can safely say that thou art one of the most fortunate men I have ever known, Majesty.’

  The look the King gave him implied that the remark didn’t even warrant a response.

  ‘Tomorrow happens to be the sixth day of the moon, when the influence of the orb be at its height. At this particular time of year, after a traditional sacrifice and an elaborate feast …’ he waved his hand across the food on the table before them, ‘one can cut mistletoe from the sacred oak to make an antidote for all poisons.’

  ‘Be Vanora intending to poison my wife?’

  ‘Nay, not the Queen, but thy heir.’ The King rose immediately, but Taliesin gripped his arm. ‘Thou art already too late, Maelgwn. Cadogan forced Tory to take the brew before she’d even left Aberffraw, under the premise it was just a sleeping potion. But fear not! Thy enchanted wedding gift still protects the child. But without the potion, that I can only make on the morrow, thy heir shall sur
ely perish.’

  The King’s eyes closed and he resigned himself to be patient and trust in the Goddess, as she’d never steered him wrong before.

  ‘There be one other very good reason for delay,’ the Merlin informed them, his spirits lifting. ‘If thee would all care to follow me.’

  Taliesin guided them to the room housing his hexagons. The party was astonished to behold within the largest of these a holographic image of Chiglas’ capital, Arwystli, and the surrounding terrain.

  ‘Sacred Mother!’ Angus mouthed the words as his voice escaped him.

  ‘Great wonders of Britain, High Merlin!’ Vortipor cried in amazement. ‘I am mighty glad I am on thy side.’

  ‘Arwystli?’ Maelgwn sought to confirm, leaning against the glass to try to find whatever was amusing Taliesin so.

  ‘Aye,’ Taliesin smiled, waiting for the King to spot their saving grace.

  Maelgwn had no fear of the technology, as they’d used this equipment to crush Cadfer fifteen years ago. ‘What be all that commotion in the mountains yonder?’ The King assumed the control position behind the panel and proceeded to zoom over the countryside, to take up a vantage point closer to the mountains.

  ‘They look like Saxons, Majesty,’ Tiernan said as he ventured closer.

  ‘Undoubtedly,’ Taliesin said. ‘It would seem Chiglas did not see fit to pay them for their unsuccessful attempt to seize Gwynedd. And with no spoils to cover the plundering scavengers through winter, they intend to take their due by force. And they will, on the morrow.’

  ‘Saved by the Saxons, well I never!’ Maelgwn almost had to laugh.

  ‘Indeed, the perfect diversion. Wait for them to break through the outer defences, sneak in while all art engaged in battle, and make for thy Queen. Unfortunately, I shan’t be able to tell thee her situation within the city until morn, when she hast reached Arwystli.’

  ‘Excellent!’ Maelgwn greatly approved.

  ‘I thought so.’ Taliesin was gracious.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Vortipor interrupted politely. ‘I know this may seem a stupid question, but if we do not leave now, how shall we make Powys in time?’

  ‘Rufus, I hope,’ the King answered, but he could never tell just how much persuading it would take to draw the dragon out into the Middle Kingdoms.

  Sir Brockwell and Sir Rhys reached Aberffraw in the early hours of morning. Brockwell charged into the house, yelling at the top of his lungs to draw the attention of anyone who could tell him what was going on.

  Cara, Cedric and Alma came racing to him.

  ‘Where be the King?’ Calin panicked.

  ‘He makes chase,’ Cedric assured him, taking hold of the young knight’s arm to prevent him from dashing off in pursuit. ‘He said thou art to remain here, for the way the King hast taken the others, thee cannot follow, Calin.’

  ‘What art thou saying, Cedric? Chiglas holds my lady captive!’

  ‘The King hast got Vortipor, Tiernan and Angus with him, they shall see to Katren’s rescue. We need thee here, in case this be another damn trick.’

  ‘Cedric, my love, my sister and my King art out there!’ He pointed to the darkness beyond the frosted windows. ‘Without them, there be nothing left here for me to protect. I am the King’s Champion, I should be with him now. Please, tell me which way they went?’

  Cedric let Brockwell’s arm go. ‘Llyn Cerrig Bach. The King sought the High Merlin there.’

  ‘Bless thee, Cedric.’ Brockwell backed up in haste. ‘I shall make thee glad thee told me, I swear.’

  ‘I am coming with thee,’ Rhys resolved.

  ‘Nay Rhys, stay with Cedric, thy wife and thy child. No offence, but I will get there faster on my own.’

  ‘May the Goddess speed thee,’ said Rhys in parting.

  ‘How could she not,’ Brockwell reasoned, as he made for the door.

  Taliesin performed the ritual at the first rays of dawn, and, with the aid of a golden sickle, he cut the plant known as mistletoe from the oak tree. The Merlin was mindful not to cut the oakwood, as this would be considered unfortunate and thus condemn their mission.

  On the pure white blanket that covered the fairy wood, the small group of warriors observed the rites taking place. They made the most of the opportunity to focus and centre themselves, for it had been decided that they would go into Arwystli without their cumbersome armour to gain the vantage of speed and agility.

  Whilst the potion brewed, the party returned to the Merlin’s control room to view the current situation at Arwystli. Taliesin’s tiny satellite camera was homing in on a microscopic device that lay inside the charm Tory wore around her waist. As it shot past on the screen before them, the masters noted the course they would take. After passage through the outer and inner baileys on the screen, they entered the huge dark fortress that housed Chiglas and his forces. There they found the Queen and Katren in the throne room, standing before King Chiglas and the Princess Vanora.

  Tory had been unconscious for most of the icy crossing from Mon to Powys. The potion had drained every ounce of strength from her body, and the cramps in her stomach were becoming harder to ignore. Katren grasped her tightly around the waist to help support her in a standing position. Tory had never felt this vulnerable, ever. She recognised the man seated on the throne from her nightmares. This disgusting individual was obese to the extreme, with sores covering his face, hands and feet which indicated that he was riddled with disease. The advisers standing around his throne appeared to be suffering from the same ailment. Chiglas was bald except for a few strands, and his beady little eyes appeared ridiculously small in comparison to his huge crooked nose and large lips, which were almost purple in colour.

  Vanora watched her father intently as he grunted and snarled, his tongue quickly lapping over his lips on occasion to keep them moist. She nodded ever so slightly in acknowledgment, then stepped forward to speak on his behalf. The evil King and his daughter were using telepathy to communicate, which made Tory wonder how they had the power to bethink each other. Surely they had not been set apart as Chosen.

  ‘Sir Cadogan, we art greatly pleased that thou hast delivered the War Goddess as promised. We find thee worthy to bear the title of Prince of Powys, heir to our kingdom.’ Vanora paused, her cold black eyes looking to Tory. ‘Did thee give her my potion as instructed?’

  ‘Of course, Highness.’ Cadogan placed his right hand on his heart.

  ‘Then where be the blood of the Dragon’s heir?’

  What! Tory turned to Cadogan who was standing next to her. She summoned what strength she had left and served him a punch to his temple. Such a strike was known to cause loss of vision, balance, consciousness, even death through a brain lesion.

  Cadogan dropped like a ten tonne weight to the floor, bleary eyed and shaken.

  ‘Thou art a lying maggot, Cadogan. If my child dies I shall crush every bone in thy body, one by one.’

  Cadogan’s eyes rolled back in his head as he passed out.

  Tory received a backhanded blow to the face from the guard closest to her, but she only smiled in satisfaction. ‘Weak as piss,’ she claimed, as the guard raked her arms behind her back to restrain her.

  Princess Vanora didn’t seem at all bothered by her future husband’s affliction; the Queen of Gwynedd was more her concern. ‘So then, thee must have on thy person some fairy enchantment that protects thy child. What might that be?’

  Think of something else, Tory told herself in desperation, knowing that Vanora would only see whatever came into her mind. The Queen conjured the image of an alien creature from a horror movie she’d seen. She recalled the close-up of the beast’s head as it slowly parted several sets of extendible jaws, dripping with saliva and slime.

  Vanora screeched as the horrific vision entered her mind, and backed away quickly to escape it.

  ‘I will find it!’ she thundered. ‘Remove thy clothes.’

  Chiglas appeared inspired by the prospect, licking his lips as his arms reached out towards
the Queen; this was truly Tory’s worst nightmare.

  ‘Eat shit!’ She made her resolve plain.

  Fortunately for Tory, just then a guard rushed in to inform Chiglas that the Saxons were storming the walls.

  ‘What?’ Vanora moved to the window to determine the size of the threat. ‘Lock up the Warrior Queen and her servant,’ she ordered. ‘I will contend with them presently.’

  After bearing witness to the scene in Chiglas’ courtroom, Maelgwn would not delay his departure any longer. While Taliesin bottled the antidote, the King made haste through the labyrinth to seek the dragon’s lair.

  Maelgwn walked along the stony track that led up to the cave which Rufus frequented. As the King reached the entrance, he was startled to encounter not one dragon but two. The second dragon would have taken his head off, had he not been fast enough to duck into a crevice in the rock and escape injury.

  Albina!

  Maelgwn heard the sound of Rufus’ familiar voice resounding through his brain, even though nothing but a low growl reached his ears.

  That be one’s penance to Keridwen, that thou art about to swallow.

  Rufus, the larger of the two, came to stand beside the unknown dragon, bringing chunks of rock and dirt crumbling down inside the cave with the vibration of his every step. Please accept one’s apologies. Albina, my mate, be brooding at present. The dragon motioned with his claw to an egg that was larger than the King. Not unlike thy Queen.

  ‘I understand completely. I am sorry if I startled thee, Albina.’ The King bowed politely to her. The beast seemed unimpressed, and with a snort returned to her position curled around her spawn. ‘I would have sent word of my visit, but I am pressed for time and greatly in need of thy assistance.’

  One knows why thou art here. And one could be in favour of helping thee, provided …

  ‘Provided what, Rufus?’

  In return for a fast flight to Powys, one wants all the dead of all thy foe, including thy brother and the corpulent Chiglas. However, these latter two, one wants alive! Thus the beast claimed their souls and would wipe them from existence forever.