Wilmurin: Land of the Druids

by H. J. Cronin

  The next day started out much like the previous morning. In the distance, only three or four miles away, Johan spotted the entrance to the valley. But far to their left they saw a small dark mass approaching them.

  Bethegar turned and bellowed out, ‘Men! Form up! Shield wall.’ He looked to Johan who wore a very worried expression. ‘We have company. Stay back and stay safe, these may not be friendly.’ Johan instantly did as Bethegar instructed.

  The mass approached them rapidly and Bethegar could make out Felecia of the Black Widow Clan. With her must have been close to one hundred men. He only had twenty-four soldiers and his sister and Ardag, Johan had to survive, these lands still belonged to the Clan of the Bear, why on earth would a black widow be here?

  Felecia honed in on the surprised party with her men. She looked much like her sister, Katrina, with her stunning beauty, pale skin, bright red lipstick, and dark flowing hair. She wore the customary dress code of the Black Widow Clan, a tight black corset with a black widow on its breast and leather hose with long dark boots.

  She was gazing at the men before her with a cruel, sharp look. ‘Give me Johan now. The Black Widow requests his presence,’ Felecia demanded.

  Johan made to step forward but Bry stopped him. Bethegar replied to Felecia, ‘Felecia, daughter of the Widow, why do you come to my lands making demands?’

  ‘I will not trade words with you, bear. I have come for Johan and Johan only.’

  ‘That is a lot of men for travelling all this way from your hole to receive one man,’ Bethegar said mockingly, looking over her shoulder at her host.

  ‘They are here to kill you and all of your men if you do not comply,’ she said with a sinister smile.

  ‘Felecia, the Black Widow knows that this would be a declaration of war. To have a small skirmish in the woods is one thing, but to attack the son and daughter of the great King Bemnom is an act of war.’

  ‘If war comes to these lands then it is your kingdom, Bethegar, which will turn to ash. There needs to be no war, son of Bemnom, just give my mother what she wants!’

  ‘How about this, Felecia: you bring your beautiful mother over here to me so I can show her how good a bear like me can fuck a spider like her,’ Bethegar said, smiling and opening his arms as an invitation. His men laughed at this and Bry just shook her head. He saw Felecia’s face turn red to signal how furious she was. Bethegar turned back to his men. ‘Right men, it looks like I have pissed this black widow off and she has declined my offer, ready yourselves for combat! Form a shield wall’

  Johan watched the exchange with anxiety. From what memory he had of his previous world he had been involved in battles; he was far from scared of fighting, he was more anxious about the style of fighting in this world. Where he had previously used a rifle, now he was required to use a sword. Bry put her hand on his shoulder to reassure him and then walked off beside her brother, leaving Johan and Ardag alone, anticipating the coming fight; they both knew there would be one.

  From where he stood, Johan could make out that Felecia looked infuriated with what had just been said to her. She opened out her arms, raising them to the sky. Her arms began to extend and grew long, thin and black, and the same thing happened to her legs. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, two more legs protruded from her hips and two more just under where her arms had been. She stood there with eight long, black, hairy legs and suddenly her head and entire body began to morph into a huge black widow spider, with a tell-tale red mark on its abdomen. It was almost as big as Bethegar’s bear form and it hissed at Bethegar, who in turn took on his transformation into a large grizzly brown bear. Bry also took shape as a bear, although a little smaller than Bethegar but still almost as formidable; she was a much lighter brown than her brother. Johan just stood gazing at this spectacular display.

  The two bears roared at the black spider who hissed back at them. Suddenly Felecia’s men roared as well, and with the black widow spider they charged at the bears and their men who held their shields out ready to receive the charge. The spider was a lot faster than the two bears, and parried with them and fought bitterly with them, though they managed to keep out of reach of her fangs and webs. The Black Widow’s men crashed into Bethegar’s shield wall like water on a rock. They chopped and hacked at the wall but could not break it, and many fell at the attempt.

  Johan and Ardag readied their weapons for the inevitable moment that the wall broke. Eventually one of the Black Widow’s men brought an axe down from above his head, and hit home on the head of one of the bears’ men, killing him and thus opening a gap in the defence. Slowly but surely the fight became a hand to hand open skirmish between the two sides. Ardag stopped Johan from charging in, but some of the enemy still found their way through and attacked the two men. Johan could still see the two bears fighting the spider. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man who was a lot bigger than himself running towards him; the man, in his dark leather armour, swung his sword aiming for Johan’s neck, but Johan ducked beneath the blow, bringing his own sword up and stabbing the man in the armpit and into his heart, killing him at once; blood flowed onto Johan’s hand but he did not have time to think about it for another man was upon him.

  Ardag fought at an extremely fast pace against two enemies who dared to attack him. His katana flew around so quickly that it was almost as if it was invisible. He sliced clean through one man’s leg and cut the other’s throat, releasing a shower of blood into the air; he then turned back to the first man and stabbed him in the heart. He could see Johan being attacked by three men and charged at them with the point of his katana facing them. He brought it down in a swift arc, decapitating one of the men instantly, then killing one with a stab in the neck and the last with a slash to the stomach, releasing his innards before any of them registered his presence.

  ‘You truly are gifted in your talent Ardag,’ Johan said, almost out of breath.

  ‘I have learned since a child, and take good pleasure in slaying my enemies. Come, we must leave and get to my father.’

  ‘We can’t leave Bethegar and Bry!’ Johan protested.

  ‘They would want it – we must go now! Our men are losing this fight,’ Ardag insisted and grabbed Johan and they both made for the valley. They were blocked by half a dozen enemy men; both lowered their swords and challenged the new threat.

  Bry and Bethegar still viciously fought the spider in their bear forms. A number of times, after being struck by one bear or the other, the spider had leapt into the air carrying one of Bethegar’s men in her web, and devoured him to restore her energy before she landed. Johan saw Bethegar turn to look at him and Ardag, and seeing they were in trouble, signalled with a low growl for Bry to go and help. She looked at him as if to protest but he growled louder and she ran over to the two men in trouble. Bethegar gave a brief look around and saw that all but a few of his men had died, and turned back in time to see the black widow flying at him with her legs wide open, a shower of web flying from her abdomen into his face blinding him, and then more onto his body trapping him.

  Johan and Ardag fought the enemy with determination, slaying five of them with ease when more men ran at them. Suddenly the light brown bear pounced on them, whacking two out of the way and jumping on another, tearing him to shreds. Bry grabbed Johan with her jaw and threw him onto her back along with Ardag, and as they ran away from the battlefield, she gave a moment to turn her head to view the carnage. She saw her brother covered in web and the black widow spider approaching him; Johan and Ardag didn’t notice the tear falling from the bear’s eye.

  They rode half-way through the valley and managed to lose the dozen men pursuing them. The ground was all jagged rock and all Johan could see was the wall of rough rocky mountains on either side. He felt sorry for Bry who had run on this uneven surface for an hour or so. The time had come where she felt they were in no more danger, and she transformed back to her human form. She was exhausted, upset and angry all at once; Johan knew to tread lightly.

 
Ardag took charge and suggested some rest, so they found a fallen rock and sat down. ‘We rest for now and then move to the Clan of the Wolf for some aid and provisions. Then we move to my father,’ he said.

  Bry looked at him with red rings surrounding her eyes where she had been crying. ‘We must go back and save my brother, the Black Widow Clan will kill him.’

  ‘No Bry, we must get Johan to my father immediately, Bethegar wouldn’t want you to mourn him,’ Ardag said, trying to reassure her. She nodded and looked back down.

  Johan sat next to her and put his arm around her, and much to his amazement she let him, and even more to his astonishment she leant her head on his shoulder. ‘It's okay Bry, I swear it now, that we will avenge Bethegar and the Black Widows will pay. I will personally see to it,’ Johan said, gritting his teeth.

  She looked up at him and forced a smile, ‘You are brave Johan, very brave and you fought well. I was wrong about you. There is nothing we can do to help Bethegar now. Let’s not let his death be in vain,’ she said, and gently kissed him on the cheek, sending shivers down his spine.

  ‘I will protect you Bry, daughter of King Bemnom,’ he said pulling her close.

  ‘I’d hate to interrupt this romantic moment, but we must keep on moving,’ Ardag cut in as well as taking out his pipe and narnum. ‘We have delayed here for far too long. We do not want to risk the Black Widow’s men reaching us,’ he concluded, and the trio stood and were once again on the move towards Weydon, home of the wolves.

  Navigating the rough terrain was difficult and a number of times one or other of them fell over. There was no sign of life in this unforgiving, grey part of the world. Weydon was still nearly a week’s march from where they were. They built up pace to reach the fort as soon as possible. The clouds had grown very grey above them and rainfall started to patter off of the rocks around them. Suddenly it came down extremely heavily; the trio managed to salvage some water which must have been blessing from someone.

  As the night began to close in on them the rain still pounded around them, but they eventually made it to the end of the Wolves’ Valley. Bry transformed back into her bear form and the trio slept rough that night on the edge of the Valley, each taking turns to watch out for enemies. Without any cover or blankets or food in their bellies, this was the most uncomfortable night since Johan had arrived here. It had been a very quiet walk and the night was just as quiet. The trio were too tired and exhausted to make any kind of small talk. In the morning they were to carry on their journey along the most northern part of Wilmurin, and eventually they would reach Weydon.

  The bright sun light in the early morning awoke the trio from their sleep. They all felt drained, hungry and out of sorts after the wearisome night. What Johan did not expect was to be gazing out at a large glistening ocean in front of him. Standing in the shadow of the mountains on the rocky ground the three of them looked out over the cliffs, staring at the ocean that seemed never to end.

  Johan looked out to the ocean and turned to Ardag. ‘What’s beyond the waves, Ardag?’ he asked.

  ‘If truth be told, not many people from our land have ever ventured out that far, Mer People who live in the oceans are too violent to contend with. The only places where travellers stop are the ports, and they are mostly merchants,’ Ardag replied, stroking his moustache.

  ‘So beyond this land there could possibly be still other civilisations?’

  ‘It is possible Johan. Rumours have it that after the First War of Wilmurin the surviving few elves fled to a distant land. People often talk of the likes of other strange creatures that are rumoured to live in this world, but they do not bother us so they are no concern to us.’

  ‘Enough chatting you two about this and that – we have a wolf to visit,’ Bry said, throwing pebbles at the two men and picking up their equipment.

  Ardag, Johan and Bry continued along the cliff top walking towards Weydon. Within days they had reached the outskirts but had not yet been challenged, which they put down to being such a small party. Johan looked at Weydon with his mouth wide open, gawping at the sight of this large stone fortress. Weydon was built into the mountain, with rough diagonal walkways to contend with even to access it. Hidden here, there was not much threat from attack. The city didn’t even have walls surrounding it; the complex of deadly walkways were enough to stop an army. They could see holes in the rock which visibly led to the inside. It was an amazing piece of architecture and Johan was simply amazed.

  They cautiously approached the fortress, being careful not to be mistaken for intruders. Bry had been here before so she led the two others through the safe route through the walkways. Johan could see just how deadly this could be to an untrained individual. He was just hoping he wouldn’t have to flee this place in any sort of hurry should they encounter hostility from the Clan of the Wolf.

  They approached one of the main entrances where two guards stood with pikes. Bry approached them, showing her hands to let them know she was unarmed. ‘Well met friends. I am Bry from the Clan of the Bear. I come here to ask for the king’s hospitality and assistance. We are friends of Wufclore.’

  One of the guards lowered his pike and approached her. ‘Very well, bear. Just stay there.’ He turned to the other guard, ‘Go and get prince Garpaw tell him we have visitors.’

  ‘I thank you friend,’ Bry said nodding her head with approval.

  They had waited for what seemed like an hour when the gate opened up and out came a man with a leather cuirass and leather britches. He had short, spiked-up brown hair and long bushy sideburns which almost reached his mouth. Unlike the Clan of the Bear with their shaggy looking faces and long hair, this other north clan were a lot less hirsute.

  ‘Greetings Bry, daughter of King Bemnom, what brings you to this side of the mountain?’ the man asked in his husky cold voice; the wolves were not known for their kindness.

  ‘Well met, Garpaw son of Wufclore, I am here to request aid and supplies before our journey continues.’ She looked down with an obvious tear in her eye and continued, ‘We were attacked by the Black Widow’s men and her daughter Felecia. Bethegar was killed.’

  ‘I am sorry to hear of your brother’s fate, Bry, but we cannot allow you to enter our city. If the Black Widow is indeed after you then we would want no part in this if war was to come,’ he answered apologetically.

  ‘But please, this is a horrible situation that is developing in our world. With me is Johan, son of Haramithir, he has returned to this land and we need to get him to the Eagle. Where is your father?’

  ‘He has been summoned by your father to the council at Flordonium, somewhat urgently. Is that really the heir of the Night Hunters?’ he said looking over her shoulder to Johan.

  ‘Yes, Garpaw, this is much bigger than a small skirmish with the spiders and yes, this is Johan. He must live,’ she replied looking at Johan with a smile.

  ‘In that case, come forth into my city,’ he replied, signalling with his arm towards the gate. He then looked out over the land as if looking out for the enemy.

  The gates opened inwards to reveal the hidden city of Weydon. The small party walked onto the busy streets which were full of hustle and bustle and people going about their daily business. The entire city was built in an enormous cavern inside the mountain. Johan was amazed at the sheer ingenuity of the construction of such a city; sunlight shone through little cracks in the ceiling, and the cavern was shaped like a huge dome. The houses and shops were constructed in levels, with the shops, markets and other necessities on ground level, while the houses appeared to be built on top of each other like a shanty town, except that the buildings in this city were all made of hard stone. Apart from appearing to be living in squalor, the people looked quite content. The houses rose for a further eight levels with sloped pathways leading to each of them.

  Directly in front of them, at the end of the main cobbled street, was a huge citadel with great stairs leading to its huge gates; this must be where the clan’s leaders lived
. The party continued walking through the main street avoiding passers-by who were hurrying about their daily lives. Some strange looks were given to the newcomers, but they were mostly ignored. They passed through a market where people were trying to sell them everything from horse legs to lizard tongues. This metropolis was truly amazing to behold, and despite being within the mountain there was no darkness; artificial and natural light lit the entire city.

  Garpaw turned to Johan, who hadn’t said anything because he was quite obviously amazed, ‘Beautiful isn’t it? Weydon, that is,’ he said, gazing around.

  ‘I have never seen anything like it, it’s magnificent, almost impossible,’ Johan replied, quite bewildered.

  ‘My ancestors built it many centuries ago as protection from the outside. Don’t get me wrong, our army is quite formidable, although small, it still packs a punch, but the natural defences Weydon offers are second to none,’ he said, extremely proud. He turned to Ardag, ‘Hello, son of the Eagle, long time no see. I see you kept Mr Johan safe in your absence.’

  ‘I never lost sight of the lad, but it was hard, I must admit, being away from this world, and looking after him without saying anything,’ Ardag said, smiling at Johan.

  ‘So Ardag, how old are you? From what I remember from the old world you were about ten years older than me,’ Johan asked spontaneously.

  ‘I am two hundred and fifty years old. I look good for my age, don’t you think? In that world I had to take on a younger form. The druids in this world live just like humans, but for the druid wizards like my father, our life span is generally seven hundred years. So I am middle-aged.’ Ardag said, smiling.