The Secret Burial Grounds of Knocknakil

by Gregg Holt

  Gregorian returned into the hut where a fire held pride of place in the centre of the room.

  “Do you have trouble Gregorian?” a low profound voice from the gloom asked.

  From behind the fire stepped a large monstrous man, battle scars evident across his face. Dark hair which hadn’t seen water in years.

  “I... I... Iroquois you should have told me you were coming. I would have had a banquet ready,” Gregorian replied cautiously.

  “Never mind that, are your men ready?”

  “Yes of course they are, they are professional soldiers.”

  “Hmm,” Iroquois replied as he slowly circled Gregorian, making him feel very uncomfortable. “There are two children and no doubt that interfering leprechaun will show his face in time.”

  “Two children and a leprechaun, you want me and my men to fight children!” Gregorian exploded, storming towards Iroquois.

  “Silent!” he replied, staring menacingly at Gregorian who quickly remembered his place.

  “Sorry sire, that was unforgivable of me.” And he bowed his head.

  “No doubt that old druid will make things difficult for you, the time has come.”

  “I will ready the men immediately.”

  “No not immediately, there is always time to eat.” Iroquois noticed a jug and he drank from it, red wine ran down the side of his face and he let out a satisfied burp.

  “Gregorian, more wine if you please,” Iroquois barked as his hand wiped the remaining drips from his face.

  A short time later Gregorian returned with roast hog caught earlier that day in the forest. Several of his men brought potatoes, bread and several jugs of red wine. The smell of the sweetly cooked meat filled the air, tantalising their taste buds and enticing Iroquois instantly to the table. They placed them on a long ancient table with two benches on both sides and they all sat around. Iroquois drooled as he grabbed flesh from the freshly-cooked beast and ripped at it primitively. With his left hand he grabbed a potato and forced it into his mouth, quickly swilling it down with more exotic wine.

  The smell drifted far beyond the wooden hut, enticing more interested parties to the dinner table. Peering over his shoulder, Guthrum noticed a wolf’s nose slowly edging through the doorway. He hurled the half empty wine jug at the unsuspecting creature, sending it howling out of the hut. Seconds later more howls penetrated the cold breeze as the wolves approached the enticing aroma.

  Gregorian’s men drank countless jugs of wine as they sang songs whilst jostling with each other.

  Iroquois ordered Gregorian out of the hut with him.

  “The Boggot informed me it is time. First thing in the morning, ready your men.”

  “Of course Iroquois, what do you want me to do?” Gregorian replied, nodding slightly.

  “Sail to Devil’s Point and stay there and await my orders.”

  “It’s a treacherous stretch of water, Devil’s Point, Iroquois.”

  “Not to a captain of your experience Gregorian; it’s ideal, you won’t be bothered with any unwanted visitors.”

  A wolf inched towards Iroquois as he slowly drew his sword. Gregorian placed his hand on Iroquois and he replaced it.

  “Wolves – vile creatures.” Iroquois scorned.

  Gregorian whistled deeply and the wolf instantly back peddled obeying his master.

  “You have to know how to treat them,” Gregorian replied.

  “Devil’s Point tomorrow!” Iroquois ordered and he walked away into the dark, haunting decaying forest.

  Chapter 6

  Swallow Hole

  Deeper into the darkness they sank, the water playing with their bodies, forcefully throwing and pushing them, leaving the two very disorientated. Their skin started to numb from the cold as they sank further into the unknown. Graham’s hand slipped from Lorna’s as they drifted apart and their chests strained under the lack of air and the water pressure. The urge to breathe was incredible and slowly the water forced its way into their mouths. Roving freely, their arms and legs started to go limp, allowing the current to dictate direction, and the darkness took on a new meaning as they drifted into unconsciousness.

  Some time later, Graham slowly started to hear a long exaggerated whistle blowing in his ears. A soft tickling sensation followed as water trickled from his ear drum.

  “I am not sure your friend is too good,” said an unfamiliar distant voice.

  Graham presumed he was dreaming until somebody started banging on his chest.

  “Wake up, wake up, you lazy sod!” it shouted.

  Anxiously, Graham instantly opened his eyes realising he was still alive. There directly in front of him was the blurred image of the little man he had been pursuing.

  They were eye level with each other, although Graham was half sat and half slumped backwards. He started to come to his senses and noticed his green tunic was quilted with a belt splitting the middle, supporting a small cloth bag and short sheath with a sword. Dark tight trousers were tucked neatly into what appeared to be fabric ankle-length boots.

  Not noticing that Graham was awake he turned and banged on his chest again.

  “I’m awake!” shouted Graham, pushing him away and sitting up. The little man squinted at Graham with his twinkly eyes housed in mature eye sockets. The red stubble protruding all around his jaw line started to move as he said.

  “About time!”

  “Give me your gold,” he suddenly shouted at Graham, prodding Graham on the cheek.

  “What gold?” Graham exclaimed, rubbing his eyes in shock.

  “Don't you start,” said the little man, “I suppose you’re going to say what your friend said, that you were chasing me for mine.”

  “Well yes,” he replied hesitantly, looking bemused and noticing that Lorna was safe and sat up on a rock.

  At this the man became annoyed saying, “Everybody knows that leprechauns don’t have the gold, it’s the humans that have it,” and he stomped off in a temper.

  Graham sat up. Looking around, he noticed the damp walls of an underground cave around him. A few feet in front of him, a small river surged through the cavern, the water crashing against the rocks and filling the air with tiny droplets of moisture. There was a small pool with bubbling water separated by large rocks next to a shingle beach just underneath Graham’s feet.

  “You OK, Graham?” Lorna asked, jumping off a small ledge where sunlight was penetrating into the cave and providing some light to the dark surroundings.

  “Yeah, I think so,” he replied, grabbing Lorna’s hand and clambering to his feet.

  The sound of the river echoed all around and Graham noticed that it eventually dipped below the rocks and out of sight.

  “How do we get out of here?” Lorna asked, her eyes looking all around.

  “Don’t know, how did we end up in here?” Graham replied, noticing the ginger-haired fellow sat on a rock, his head in his hands.

  “Oi, you, how do we get out of here?” Graham shouted across to the stranger.

  The question fell on deaf ears as he sat there still shaking his head muttering to himself.

  “Come on Lorna, let’s try up there where the light is coming in.”

  Climbing onto the ledge, a small passageway revealed itself as the light shone directly towards them. They pulled themselves up and started to walk down the rocky honeycombed corridor, stumbling occasionally on loose rocks. The light increased and they noticed the cave entrance a short distance ahead. A quiet rushing noise amplified into a howl as they approached, eventually becoming a gale as fresh sea air blew into their faces recklessly.

  Lorna climbed up over the rocks partly blocking the entrance, turning to assist Graham.

  Standing side by side they gazed out in awe over the frothy crystal blue water of the Atlantic Ocean.

  The ocean fought furiously with the ragged rocks on which they stood, thunderous waves crashed, intent on destruction, throwing showers of salty spray over them.

  “Look, no way back to la
nd!” Graham shouted pointing behind the entrance to the cave which had now revealed itself as a solitary, isolated large rock.

  They both looked back noticing the main land was several hundred feet behind them. Large rocks protruding from the ocean floor were under the same fearsome attack from the white crested waves. It would be impossible for them to attempt to enter the water.

  Mesmerised, they gazed at the waves crashing a short distance below, spraying them at every opportunity.

  “We better see if we can find some other way back,” Graham shouted, pulling at Lorna’s arm.

  “Come on Lorna!” Graham shouted again, becoming impatient.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, chill out,” Lorna replied, reluctantly trying to pull herself away, astounded by the beauty of such a stimulating view which somehow left her feeling liberated.

  They clambered back down into the tunnel and Lorna stumbled, landing on top of Graham, there bodies horizontal and staring into each others eyes, much to his dissatisfaction.

  “What is this place?” Lorna inquired quickly, realising the embarrassing position they were in and climbing promptly to her feet. “Do you think that dwarf really is a leprechaun?”

  “I think so,” Graham replied.

  “Well we didn’t follow Jim’s advice very well did we, eh?” Lorna said, slightly raising her voice and pointing at Graham.

  “What are you talking about Lorna?”

  “Jim said, don’t take your eyes off him, not even for a second; remember?”

  “Oh yes,” said Graham as he realised the implications. “I bet he is long gone by now. Or maybe he is still there. If so, let’s hope he is some use and can get us out of here, considering he has no gold,” Graham replied and their pace quickly increased.

  After a few steps Lorna suddenly threw her arm across Graham’s chest, stopping him promptly in his tracks.

  “What’s that Graham?” she whispered, her face had drained leaving it colourless.

  “Please tell me that I am not seeing a ghostly soldier walking across the passageway?”

  “S... S... Sorry Lorna, I can’t.”

  “So are you seeing what I’m looking at?”

  “Yes,” he stuttered, with his body shaking.

  The warrior was radiating against the dark passage. He glanced across, looking right through them, and vanished through the solid stone wall.

  They quickly returned to the cave where they had last seen the little man, their hearts beating like drums. Struggling to comprehend what they had just seen, they stopped and fell silent; he was still sat there muttering to himself in a grumpy mood.

  “Do you know how we can get out of here?” Graham asked in a quiet apologetic voice, moving towards the leprechaun and noticing he had a trimmed beard and emerald green eyes. “Fairly good looking chap,” Graham thought to himself. His green jacket was about three-quarter length and he wore black seamless boots.

  The petite man looked up at the bedraggled pale pair and said: “There is only one person who will know what to do. Yes, I must take you to see Carragah; he is the wise one and will certainly know what to do!” as he briskly jumped to his feet.

  “My name is Graham and this is Lorna,” he said holding out his hand in a bid of friendship.

  The leprechaun stopped in his tracks and paused for several seconds, looking at them before responding.

  “My name is Kiltmagh Brihanny.”

  “That’s a funny name!”grinned Lorna nervously, still feeling the effects from the apparition and not allowing him to finish his sentence.

  “I am one of the few remaining leprechauns,” he continued.

  “Well there is no way I will remember that name,” Lorna said, interrupting for a second time.

  “I think I will call you Lepy.”

  The leprechaun shook his head in dismay and started walking. He carried on ignoring the questions Graham and Lorna were now asking as they started off at pace deep into another honeycombed passageway.

  Graham and Lorna quickly ran after Lepy to keep close, still apprehensive after the disturbing experience a short while ago. The natural light in the cave quickly faded away, leaving them in virtual darkness.

  The leprechaun pulled something out of his cloth bag and a light started to shine from his hand. It looked like a small glass ball. Considering its size it was emitting a powerful bright light. The cave came alive with eerie shadows dancing all around.

  Slowly they travelled through a dark tunnel which had been carved through the solid limestone. Lepy’s light shone several feet ahead fighting with the darkness intent on keeping its passage secret. Underfoot were square cobbles revealing some purpose to the existence of this passageway. Their eyes started to adjust with the aid of Lepy’s light and Graham noticed some markings on the walls.

  “Hey Lorna, these markings on the wall, they are the same as the rocks at Knocknakil,” Graham said, stopping and running his fingers through one of the marks.

  “I wonder what they mean?” Lorna asked, slightly tilting her head to the side to improve her view.

  “It’s ancient writing from a Celtic tribe entrusted to protect part of this land thousands of years ago,” the leprechaun said, stopping and returning to look at the markings with them.

  “What does it say?” Lorna asked, still moving her head from side to side.

  “Now that, I don’t know,” replied Lepy. “Before my time I’m afraid. Carragah might be able to help, come on we must carry on.” And he turned, walking off leaving Graham and Lorna in darkness.

  They quickly followed, not wanting to be left in this dark dungeon, and as they caught up they noticed several pillars carved into the rock.

  Glancing from side to side, Lepy started to look behind each one as they passed.

  “What is it Lepy?” Graham asked, quickly sensing the small leprechaun was on edge.

  “We are being watched.”

  “Who by?” asked Lorna.

  “I don’t know but I sense danger is close by,” Lepy snapped back.

  They carried on past the pillars, further into the darkness and the unknown.

  “Hey look, fireflies,” Lorna exclaimed, pointing back towards the pillars.

  They looked back and noticed red dots appearing from behind the pillars.

  “There not fireflies, they are Shrakes!” Lepy exclaimed, and Lorna and Graham now realised the red glow they were observing indicated danger!

  Out of the darkness they could now distinguish the shape behind the scary eyes. Cat-like figures, their fur coats more ragged, with tufts of hairs scruffily sticking up. Their back two legs were larger than the front two, giving a slight resemblance of rabbit’s hind legs. When they moved, they bounded with the extra strength provided by these powerful limbs. Slowly they crept up towards the party. Lorna noticed piercing blood red eyes and two sharp fangs protruding dangerously from their slavering jaws. Their ears were slightly pointed, resembling those of a cat, but these beasts were no cats. Graham’s heart started to pound vigorously, realising that they were in immediate danger. His adrenalin started to pump around his body, reaching each and every muscle, ready for the trouble ahead.

  “So Lepy, I don’t suppose these are vegetarians are they?” Graham whispered, gazing at the sharp protruding luminous fangs.

  “No, we need to get to Carragah pronto, RUN!” Lepy screamed.

  Quickly turning, they started running at full capacity further into the abyss. Hurriedly glancing back, Graham noticed the red eyes and fangs dancing in the darkness as they started to catch up with them.

  Lepy’s light started to reveal a large steel-arched door covering the entire passageway and, more importantly, blocking their escape!

  “We’re trapped!” screamed Lorna, panic etched in her voice.

  Graham dropped slightly behind and a growl penetrated the air a few inches behind.

  Suddenly the door started to open and creak loudly as it moved. Graham felt a gust of wind just behind his neck as a sharp claw
narrowly swiped by. He was running as fast as his quivering legs would carry him but the growls were gaining inch by inch. Graham noticed the door several feet away just as Lepy disappeared behind it. He started to lose hope and prepared himself for the inevitable attack from behind, expecting the fangs to penetrate his skin any second. Against his better judgment, he glanced backwards as one of the Shrakes jumped in the air with its fangs and claws ready to slice his skin. It was too late to escape and Graham prepared himself for the worst. A second Shrake joined in and the two collided in mid air as they attempted to shred Graham’s skin.

  “Quick Graham!” Lorna shouted.

  Graham responded and drove forward as another slice caught his shirt. He was running faster than his body could manage and gravity dragged him down as he fell hard to the floor.

  Lepy appeared and held up his light. The Shrakes were dazzled for a second, which gave Lorna the opportunity to pull Graham behind the door and to safety.

  The leprechaun joined them in a flash and there was a large shudder, the sound of heavy metal reassuringly sealing them in.

  Graham collapsed on the floor, his heart visibly pounding through his chest, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

  The room they had entered was extremely tall and perfectly round with four arched doors at three, six, nine and twelve o’clock. The roof was dome-shaped, increasing in height in the middle. Around the wall were little fires, old type torches burning. Graham climbed to his feet and patted himself down. “We will be safe in here,” Lepy said and he sat down on a chair with a round table situated in the middle of this circular room. On the table there was a three-pronged candle stick, with what looked like a hundred years of cobwebs on it.