by Kris Kramer
Once a boat filled up, the oars came out and the Irish pushed off from shore and rowed out across the bay. The longboats went first, their sleek bows slicing northward through the glittering water in a long, irregular line. The rest of the boats followed, starting with our own. Everyone grabbed or was forcibly given an oar, except for Sefrid, Avaline and Lorcan, and we rowed out from the shallows, veering north until we hit open water, and then west around the point at Holyhead. The sight of that fort gave me chills, and the pit of my stomach sunk into my bowels but I forced myself not to think about it, concentrating on my feeble rowing instead. Once we made it past the point, and I couldn’t see the fort, I felt better, though not much. I disliked being on the water, but that was a welcome price to pay.
The voyage took half a day, and the water was, fortunately for us, calm and easy to cross. The boats moved due south, then curved around a stretch of land that jutted out into the sea, and we approached the western shore of Wales from that direction. The boats didn’t sit low in the water, so we were able to stay close to shore. Even though we passed by a number of fishing villages on our way, the Irishmen laughing as villagers scurried into hiding at the sight of almost twenty boats filled with raiders, none of them would get word to Cullach’s true destination in time – an inland town farther to the south called Towyn.
Sefrid quietly mentioned that the church in Towyn was rumored to house an important artifact, though what that might be she couldn’t say. But a church with a Christian artifact would also have a sizable fortune in gold and silver, given by lords and nobles as a sign of respect or as a way to curry favor and blessings from the priests. Cullach and his men needed that money, and whatever other spoils they could take from the town, but according to Sefrid, Cullach wanted more than just spoils. He was looking for land, and he wanted his before the Danes swept across Britain and claimed it all.
Towyn would be his city, a place for his men to settle and live during the winter, a base he could use for raiding in the spring and summer, and a continual reminder of his superiority over the man who’d been his rival for several years now, Rhodric, the King of Gwynedd. The same King who’d brought Cullach to Wales by betraying him years ago after an ill-fated alliance I knew nothing about. The same King who’d lost the island of Ynys Mon to him in the spring and who’d been unable to get it back. The same King who would now have to suffer having his enemy carving out a piece of his kingdom.
Sefrid, Avaline and I sat at the back of the boat, by ourselves. I had an oar in my hands, pretending that my rowing had some meaningful effect on our speed and direction, but in reality I was just slapping water, and doing my best to keep the edges of my robe and my feet out of the water pooled at the bottom of the boat. The unnatural rocking made me slightly nauseous, so I distracted myself by talking quietly with Sefrid. I started by asking why Cullach couldn’t just stay in Ynys Mon. He already had a defensible island, and Rhodric had shown that he couldn’t take it back. Why leave? Sefrid wasn’t sure, but she suspected that Cullach was uncomfortable on Ynys Mon because of its history. The island was revered by the druids for its proximity to the source of druid magic, the Otherworld. Cullach wanted land that wouldn't be contested by people with strange powers, so Ynys Mon was only a stepping stone to greater wealth and fortune. Whatever his true reasons were, it mattered little to me. I was simply glad to be gone from that place.
"What was the name of Avaline's village?” I asked, changing the subject. “Before it was destroyed?"
Sefrid stared blankly across the tranquil sea, remembering. "Alewyn."
"Alewyn," I repeated, pulling lazily on my oar. Avaline heard us and she turned her head, listening. "Did you know it well?"
She nodded. "I'd been there before. It was,” she paused, “charming."
"Did Cullach destroy it?"
Sefrid shook her head. "It was destroyed before he arrived. In fact, I think Lorcan talked him into coming here because of what happened."
"What happened?"
Sefrid motioned to Avaline. "She happened. She survived."
"I don't understand."
Sefrid looked over at Avaline, almost like a mother. "None of us do, Daniel."
I waited for more, but when no explanation came I shook my head and chuckled, and Sefrid glared at me like I’d gone mad, as did a few others in the boat. “Why are you laughing?”
“’Druids and their riddles,’” I said. Sefrid frowned at me. “It’s nothing.” Some of the stares from Lorcan’s men lingered, so I faked a renewed interest in my rowing and watched the coastline drift by. I had another question for her, but I hesitated to ask it. Finally, I decided I couldn’t hold back any longer, so I leaned over and whispered. “Did a demon destroy her village?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Is that what happened? A demon attacked, and Avaline survived?”
“I don’t know. But you obviously have a reason for bringing it up, so spit it out.”
I hesitated again, but then realized that I had no need to hold anything back from Sefrid. I didn’t care if she considered me crazy. “I saw a vision, when I first met her. I didn’t take it seriously. I thought I was just seeing a nightmare. It didn’t even look real.”
“Tell me what you saw.”
I glanced up at Lorcan’s men, and then Lorcan himself, who was busy watching the boats ahead of us. “A woman came to her village,” I said, keeping my voice low. “She was singing, but I couldn’t hear any of it, I could only see. This woman, she collapsed, and a… a demon appeared over her. He was like a beast from Hell. Dead black skin with blades growing out all over his body. He leapt about like a wolf, killing everyone he touched, and destroying the homes. All he had to do was touch the wood to set it on fire.” I paused, fighting back a shiver. “It’s like the thing was bred only to destroy.”
“That’s it?” she asked. “That’s all you saw?”
“Yes. What does it mean?”
Sefrid smiled. “I think it means you were right the first time. That was a nightmare. Surely no such creature really exists.”
“Then what happened to Avaline’s village? Something destroyed it.”
“Men did.”
“You said Cullach’s men came after.”
“Cullach’s men were not the first to invade Ynys Mon, Daniel, and they will not be the last. Any of a dozen other bands could have done it, Irish or not.”
I nodded, somewhat defeated by the notion that the village was destroyed by simple raiders. “Did Avaline have children?”
Sefrid looked at me, and her expression softened. “I don’t know.” She turned to Avaline then, and reached out to stroke her hair. “I don’t think I want to know.”
Around mid-afternoon we set our sights on a rocky, secluded beach protected from view by a short bluff. The boats were rowed to shore and dragged onto the beach where everyone disembarked. Supplies were unloaded, the horses were led off and dressed, and except for five of Ruark’s men picked to stand guard over the boats, we began our march southeast. Cullach and Ruark rode at the front of the column, along with about a dozen each of their most trusted warriors, plus thirty of Cullach’s men who would act as cavalry if needed. Lorcan was given a horse, as were two of his men, and Cullach told Lorcan to put Avaline and myself on one as well. When Lorcan protested, Cullach told him it was because he didn’t want the woman holding us up. Lorcan relented, but he glared at me some more.
Unloading had taken longer than planned, despite constant barking from Cullach, Ruark and their lieutenants, so we were behind schedule. Dusk would be upon us soon, and according to the scouts, we had a long march ahead of us until we reached the forest we’d be hiding in tonight. Cullach and Ruark gave strict orders to their men to stay sharp, and to keep up. We’d be traveling in the open for a while, and we couldn’t be seen without losing our advantage of surprise. So we had to cover the distance as fast as we could. Those on horses moved out first, in a staggered formation to keep the ent
ire army from being seen if they stumbled upon any potential Welsh scouts. I was told to stay near Lorcan, who himself stayed near Cullach. Unfortunately, my skill with riding was lacking, to put it politely, and I continually lagged behind, drawing even more scowling.
Shortly after we rode out, a man appeared at the top of a hill to the north, a good distance away. From where we were, he looked like a small black speck, but we could see him clearly enough to know that he just stood there, watching us back. Once word of him reached the leaders, Cullach shouted some orders and six of his cavalrymen rode off, galloping toward the man as he retreated over the hill, out of sight. I thought of Arkael, though I didn’t think it was him on that hill. By now I’d given up all but the faintest hope of ever seeing him again, but I found myself wondering if it could be. Would he fight off the entire army to get to Lorcan? That would be his target; the man with the demon inhabiting his soul, and who threatened to spread his foul disease all over Britain. If Arkael came here, he would kill Lorcan, along with everyone who tried to stand in his way. What would he say to me, though? Would he free me from these men, or just abandon me again?
Avaline flinched at something, then settled against my back, and I wondered what her fate would be. Would Arkael spare her? Would he see her as someone just as tainted as Lorcan? I had no idea. In fact, I suspected she might not survive that encounter no matter how much I pleaded for her. And I would. I would try to stop him. Even though I had no chance.
But I didn’t believe in Arkael anymore. He hadn’t shown up at Eoferwic when an entire city needed him, and he hadn’t shown up at the church in Ynys Mon, when I needed him, so why would I expect him to save me from this mess? No, Arkael was what I always knew him to be. A ghost. And now, nothing more than a memory. From here on out, I would have only myself to depend on. When the riders returned, reporting that the man wouldn’t be a problem, my heart fell. Some poor Welshman had wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time, but I didn’t grieve for him. I grieved because I knew I was right. I was on my own, and I had been ever since leaving Rogwallow.
Just before sunset, the flat terrain became steep and we rode up a small range of hills into the wide, brown and red-spotted forest that covered their tops. Once we crested the first hill, Cullach’s host moved quietly into the woods on foot, leading the horses by their reins, and taking care to keep from being seen or heard. No one had torches, and we couldn’t make any more sound than was absolutely necessary, so we relied on a system of moving men in a line through the darkness. We split into groups of ten, with a leader and a trailer responsible for keeping everyone together. Cullach’s group moved in first, and all the others followed, leaving only small gaps between. Avaline, Sefrid and myself stayed with Lorcan’s group, one of the last of Cullach’s followers to move out. Ruark’s men waited behind, bringing up the rear. One of Lorcan’s men, Arthan, led our group, followed by Lorcan, Sefrid, myself, Avaline, and the rest of Lorcan’s bodyguards. We moved quickly, and I had to pay special attention to Avaline to keep her from tripping on stray branches or roots. At one point in the journey, Sefrid slowed down and let her gaze linger on a series of crosshatched cuts in a tree we passed. I took it to be a Druid sign, or a rune that she recognized, but I didn’t ask her about it because I was too busy with Avaline.
Once we’d moved deep enough into the woods, a few torches were finally lit, and everyone spread out into a few clearings already picked out by Cullach’s scouts, setting up bedrolls and discrete campfires. Avaline, Sefrid and I found a small clearing a short distance from the others where I struggled to set up a small fire. Boric stayed nearby, keeping watch over us, though truthfully I don’t think he would have cared one bit if I ran away. He spent most of the evening sitting against a tree nearby and watching the Irishmen at the closest camp, a good fifty paces away.
After watching me fumble with the fire, Sefrid tired of waiting and waved her hand. The kindling sparked, causing me to jump back, and a fire caught hold. I turned to see an impatient grin on her face.
"Druid magic?" I asked.
"Of course."
"I'm sorry,” I said, settling back down. “I didn't mean to jump. After everything that's happened, I suppose I'm a little skittish. The only real magic I've ever seen has been from you, Lorcan, and whatever it was I saw in that dungeon. And even with all that I’m still not sure I believe it."
"What about your magic? You don’t believe in that?"
I gave her a suspicious stare. "What I do isn't magic."
"It certainly is."
"No,” I explained. “It's the will of God."
"What do you think magic is, Daniel? Magic, at its most basic level, is nothing more than the world around you reacting to your desires. But who gives you the power to do that? The gods do. Or in this case, your God."
That seemed to be a loose definition of the term, and one that wouldn't garner much support within the Church, but I didn't want to get into magical philosophy with Sefrid. She could be stubborn, and I was tired. "I suppose that's one way to look at it."
"One way? What makes you the arbiter of where my magic comes from?" she muttered. "The Christian in you is ready to call me a sinner and throw me to the wolves just because it goes against your teachings. What about my teachings?”
I let out an exasperated grunt. "Sefrid, I can't throw away years of study, and lecturing over the course of a few days, even if I did already have doubts. I don't mean to argue with you, I just want to understand. All of this is new for me, and I might add, a little bit frightening."
Sefrid rolled here eyes, but she said nothing. We both decided to just stare silently at the fire for a while. I could sense something roiling about in her mind, though, because her eyes focused on the fire without really seeing it. Eventually, she looked over at me.
“Daniel.” She rubbed her hands and appeared to be lost in thought. “Promise me something.”
"Hmm?”
She looked directly at me. “Be safe.”
“Sorry?”
“This attack. It could get dangerous. Do whatever it takes to keep yourself out of harm’s way. You and Avaline.”
“Of course.”
"You will promise me?"
"I... yes, I promise."
“Thank you,” Sefrid said. "I worry. About her."
"I know."
"And if you manage to survive, maybe I'll explain my magic to you. I'll try to use words you can understand."
I smiled. "I look forward to that."
Chapter 27
Sometime later, after we'd scrounged together a meager dinner of bread and some crumbs of cheese, I heard the clump of footsteps behind me. I turned to see several figures gathered about in the woods, though I couldn’t make out who they were. Their heads and arms moved animatedly as if speaking about something important, but I couldn’t hear a word. After a few minutes, all but one of them left, and the one remaining emerged from the darkness into our camp, revealing himself as one of Lorcan’s men. I didn’t know his name, but he walked to Boric, eyeing the three of us carefully, and leaned over to whisper something in Boric’s ear. Boric just nodded slightly and continued to not pay any attention to us while the other man walked away.
Sefrid watched him leave, then she stood up and wandered to the edge of the clearing.
"I'll be back shortly," she announced, and then disappeared into the trees. I didn’t think it odd, her wandering off on her own. She already seemed able to come and go as she pleased, and Boric made no move to stop her. In fact, a few minutes later he left as well, moving to another nearby fire where he grabbed a drink from a skin being passed around, completely ignoring us.
Avaline ate half a piece of bread before giving up and staring off into space. I sat across from her, watching as the light from the small fire flickered across her face. She truly could be a beautiful woman, if she hadn’t been cursed with this affliction, this corrupted ability to free men from the demon’s rot, only to suffer it herself over time. I thought about
healing her again – I’d thought about it the entire day – but now that I knew more about what she was, I wondered if it would have any lasting effect on her. I hoped it would, of course, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was chasing that ghost again.
I slid around to sit next to her, eliciting a brief, lazy glance from Boric, who remained at the other fire. I said nothing at first, and she didn’t even seem to notice that I’d moved, so I poked her shoulder. She twitched, and turned to me, then looked back off into the forest, seeing nothing save for whatever was in her head. She started to sway, though, and began humming that song of hers. It was maddening, because I’d finally realized that I’d heard it before, I just couldn’t place it. The name escaped me, as did any actual memory of someone singing it. But the melody was too familiar, and it evoked a feeling of loss that was too real to dismiss. I wondered if I'd heard it as a child, and I imagined my mother singing it to me before she died. That was one thing I did remember about her. She liked to sing.
I looked at Avaline, and I brushed away the hair from her face.
"Life is so fragile," I said, more to myself than to her. "It is fragile, painful, harrowing, and short. But that's probably the best part isn't it? There's only so long we have to suffer this world and its cruelties. But even so, I'm scared. We're about to wage war, and I don’t just mean on Gwynedd. Sefrid was right. Things are about to become horribly unpleasant, and now that I'm involved," I shook my head in disbelief at how easily I'd become mired in this nonsense, "I’m not sure how this can end well.”
