Plain of the Fourteen Pillars - Book 1

by T K Foster

Day broke.

  Briar loved the smell of dried, salted pork.

  “You’re a cannibal,” Barret chided in disgust.

  “Reckon this could’ve been my cousin,” Briar poked fun with a grin as he licked the strip of meat held between his pudgy hands.

  “Gross!”

  “It’s ok,” Briar laughed, “didn’t like him anyway. Don’t mind him now though.”

  Sometime during the night before they had lain exhausted amongst the blue flowers of the field, beyond that they had no recollection. Now, as they ate some breakfast and sat beside the bubbling stream on the east edge, the blue flowers of the field all appeared to be staring at them and smiling.

  It was a happier time now than had been experienced over the past few days; the morning had brought with it both a bright, warm sun, and the fresh smells of a beautiful landscape. Whatever wounds they had sustained the night before were now healed and their bodies felt entirely rejuvenated, athletic almost.

  “I feel like I could run a mile,” Billy claimed vigorously as he stood and stretched his arms above his head.

  In the distance, beyond the field of blue flowers, Billy looked across at the nemesis they had encountered the night before.

  “Hey, look at this,” he said, waving for his companions to stand with him.

  United they stood and gasped at what they saw.

  “A grassy plain with scattered trees,” Rod said.

  Indeed, a grassy plain with scattered trees! Unfortunately for Briar he was too short to see.

  “Incredible,” Barret gaped.

  “The trees really did come alive,” Cetra added.

  “Ok,” Briar jumped in from below, “I got all scratched up in there last night, and so did you, right?”

  They all agreed.

  “So why aren’t we all scratched up still?”

  From somewhere nearby they heard a giggle, it was only a soft giggle, it may have just been a breeze; there hadn’t been a breeze until now.... maybe.

  In that breeze the blue flowers of the field began to wave, they were all open to the sun and still appeared to be smiling as they moved hypnotically from side to side.

  “The flowers are pretty,” Cetra remarked, and a single tear began to form in her big eye.

  While they were standing there, with the breeze gently whipping their hair and ruffling their clothes, a murmuring began about them, it was like a sweet whispered song floating up from the field to drip warm honeyed sounds into their hungry ears.

  “It is so beautiful,” Cetra cried softly.

  She was swaying ever so slightly from side to side, tears now drenched her cheeks and sobs came in short successive waves.

  Even the air was sweet to smell.

  Briar took a deep breath and then smiled. He looked up to observe Cetra as her body heaved with another sob and then sank delicately to the ground. He watched on as both Billy and Barret also succumbed to weeping while they continued to stare over the field. It was then that he took a step back, suddenly understanding the predicament that was about to engulf them all, quickly realising that if the blue flowers’ song got a hold of them it wouldn’t let go until they were all curled up on the ground in the foetal position and spent till exhaustion. Yes, it was all up to Briar, and he had to get them out of there fast.

  He ran forward and kicked Barret’s ankle hard, the aim was to rouse the Irishman from the hypnotic effects of the flowers, and that it did, along with the added bonus of making him very angry.

  “Get Cetra,” Briar yelled commandingly, “We have to get her away from the flowers.”

  Barret felt his vision blurred by tears, he was light headed but well aware of the heavy blow he had sustained to his leg. When he had finished glaring at Briar who was yelling something at him, he looked down at Cetra lying on the ground and immediately leapt for her and scooped her up in his arms. It was a rare moment, when instinct was telling him that Briar might be right this time.

  In the ensuing moments, Rod, who seemed to have been overlooked, took the opportunity to adopt a new host for the time being. He leapt from Cetra’s shoulder where he had been holding on for grim death, took to Barret’s sleeve, then climbed his arm and sought sanctuary within the collar of Barret’s jacket.

  While all that was going on, Briar was shaking Billy with a rather tremendous amount of force. When Billy finally regained a sense of logic he was able to discern that Briar was screaming something at him and hanging onto the hem of his jacket.

  “Let’s go,” Briar was yelling, “We need to hurry.”

  Billy jumped to attention, wiped tears away from his eyes, and wondered where he had just been. He grabbed the leather satchel from the ground and fell into ranks; Briar led the way out, Barret held onto Cetra in his arms, and Billy followed at the rear.

  Their journey upstream had begun.

  CHAPTER THIRTY