Hawkmoon (The Hawkmoon Chronicles)

by Unknown

  Kerris laid out the food. “You said you had arranged protection for her. “

  “I have friends .We have done each other service on occasion. They will guard her at night”.

  “And the day? “

  “There are two, one is in the Forest. He has been there since the end of winter. He is from the Parish”. Enoch described him.

  Kerris looked at him.” A Half Man.? She will need someone useful with weapons.”

  “I have had dealings with them and they are quite resourceful. Besides he is about his own business. He will have a part to play before this is over”.

  “And the other?”

  “I must confess, I had not expected him. But if it is a bodyguard you need he’s your man”.

  “Who is he?” Enoch told her. The news made her jump to her feet ...” Him. I wouldn’t trust a dog with that man. What were you thinking of? He murdered one of our princes.” Enoch glanced at her.

  “Oh yes, I know about that. He killed the heir to the Throne of Cormalin while the old king was on his death bed. A fine young man”.

  Enoch looked at her with a level gaze. He leaned, taking her hand “That young man was a thrall of the Wampyrhh. As king he would have handed Cormalin over to them. Lock, stock and barrel. You know what that would mean… Blood cults, tithes of men and women to feed their appetites, child sacrifice to summon demons. We would have been forced to go to war. A war we might not have won. He assassinated the Prince Regent in his private quarters where he spent the hours of daylight. He prevented a catastrophe and saved countless lives”

  Kerris sat down. “I did not know”.

  Enoch’s voice softened. “There were two people in the Land who knew. You are the third. In the normal course of events the Rangers would have consulted with you”

  He poured the last of the wine. “Forces have been set in motion. My sense is that someone has waited centuries to play this drama. The Land is infected with Vampirism and Dark Magic. At the darkest hour a frail heartbroken young woman leaves a castle to play her part in what is to come. Magic should go a world that needs it. We don’t. We are neck deep in it, for all the good it is”

  Enoch opened the other bottle. “. He is to have any assistance he asks for…You should.”

  “Enough husband”, She rose and circled the table. Sitting in his lap she kissed him. “We will talk later.”

  The evening was settling to twilight. They lay, wrapped together in her narrow bed. She traced the bruises on his side.” When we first met you had the body and temper of a prize fighter”.

  “The body is still strong but the temper has mellowed”

  Kerris sat up .She poured the last of the wine.” Where is she?”

  “Near Blackwater Crossing. The wolves are coming to her”.

  “What”

  “Is there any of that chicken left?”

  “You said wolves.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Tell me about the wolves”.

  “Your library has books on them. A sorcerer trapped them in that form .They are tainted with Vampirism .”

  “So they are Vampires”

  “No dear, they have the taint of Vampirism. They have never eaten. They never succumbed..”

  “What is this I heard about you and a sister of the Elf Queen?”

  “Oh her…no, too thin for my taste, I like a woman with a bit of meat on her. Besides, she’s too calm, too serene.. A woman should have a temper”.

  She poked him in the ribs “We had magnificent rows”

  “Go easy woman, I’m injured”

  “So you never”…

  “Oh I did, but only the once, so as not to give offence…. She writes poetry about it”

  Enoch rose from the bed. Opening a press he took one of his robes..

  He returned to the bed, and sat on the edge. “There was a time when I could not resist the call of the road. I made excuses. I was needed somewhere to stop a war, or start one. I was happy for a time but after a few weeks I wanted to be off again. It got worse after we lost the twins. Your term is up in two years. If we ever get out of this mess would you come away with me”“

  Kerris took a brush to her hair. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I do. Some women take this job for prestige , they treat it as a game. I do it because it is necessary. I would rather be elsewhere. Not sending assassins to kill people . My people at the court of the Khan tell me that the Strongbow is working to persuade Tsubodai to sign a non-aggression pact. That will allow him to throw all his armies against us..”.

  Enoch shook his head“The Khan would never be so foolish…I will journey to the East, drink tea with the old wolf. He owes me a favour.”

  “He is ailing. If he dies there will be civil war. That’s all they will need. There are too many claimants. By the time the Succession is agreed the Reivers will have conquered the West and then not even the Empire will oppose them…..And here you are asking me to go away with you”

  “You know me, ever the romantic”

  Enoch took a leather satchel. .” I have letters …one is from the Queen of Silverlode…This is from the King of the Elves. Watch this”. Enoch breathed on it and the script changed to Common Tongue “It is keyed to my breath”. There is one from the Royal City, the king is ill and wishes for the return of his daughter”

  “I doubt if the girl wants anything to do with her father. I can smell the stepmother in this... So many hands turned against her….I must have been witless to send that child away”

  “Will you have Chandra killed? “

  “I have tried twice”.

  “You are certain she murdered the first queen?”

  “As certain as I need to be. It took long, enough but I found him. He was the assassin that night at Holguin. I asked him why he left her to live. He said it was a mistake.”

  “You have not told Mira”

  “No, I will when the time is right. For now I have more to deal with than revenge.

  “The lady is beset on all sides. Her new wealth created as many problems as it solved. The Dwarves wish to become a military power. The trouble is how? They have no population comparable to even the smaller states and no martial tradition.”

  “I wouldn’t underestimate them; they are useful with their axes. In combat they are quite a problem for a taller opponent. Every blow has to come down pulling the attacker of balance. They are nimble and strong. Their war axes will break any armour known. No one wants to fight them individually.”

  “But there is not enough of them”, Kerris objected.”Regina is seeking to make alliances; some with very doubtful characters. She wants to build up her own spy service though she does not say it here. She has bought and paid for an entire fleet of galleys.”

  Kerris opened the package at last. It was a locket, exquisitely wrought of gold and platinum, It filled the palm of her hand. She gasped as she opened it. She reached for his hand”Enoch!”

  He leaned forward to look at the gift, his eyes becoming sombre.

  “It’s the twins” There were two boys, one dark, handsome but serious. The other was blond, blue eyed and laughing.

  “It is beautiful. When was this painted?”

  Enoch took the locket. “They look about seven.”

  “Around the time we lost them”. Tears were running down her cheeks. “I don’t remember an artist, do you?”

  “There was one, a dwarf, what was his name? Maritain. He was an engineer. He spent that summer in the Library.”

  “Not all of it. I remember him in the fields, painting miniatures of flowers and trees. The dwarves love those. He was a cross little man but he was fond of the children and they followed him everywhere.

  He must have had a way about him to get them to sit still long enough to do this”. Kerris mused touching the images. “This is precious to me. I don’t know what to feel. Even now, after all the years I ache for them. And he caught them so well. Asher, so sombre,never sure if he was loved. And Thorson, never doub
ting that he was loved and loving every one in return.” They sat for a long time. Enoch holding her, Kerris looking at the images of her lost children. Finally she turned to the letters . Enoch lit another lamp and brought it near to the desk.

  Paddy McGinty’s Goat.

  A clatter of lorries came from the yard. Doors were slammed, orders shouted. Bare feet pattered on the kitchen floor. Moll lifted her head above the ladder. “It’s the English, get up”.

  There were no windows in the loft. The sound of blows on the

  door . “I will give myself up”.

  “Whisht will you”, said Moll. “The windows are small and the door is heavy. It will hold them long enough for you to get out”

  “What do you want”. McGinty shouted to the soldiers from below.

  “Open in the name of the King”.

  “He’s no king of mine. Break it down if you're man enough" The door and jamb was fashioned of seasoned Oak reinforced with bands of iron..

  Handing a sickle to Ryan she pointed at the thatch.. “Cut a hole” “I’d help but I have to get back to Paddy”.

  Putting on clothes he started hacking at the reeds. Rifle blows were raining on the door. Scraping came from below as McGinty dragged the table across the kitchen floor.

  The spot he had chosen was starting to rot…Dropping the sickle he tore at the reeds.

  He forced himself through the opening and sliding down, he landed in Moll’s kitchen garden. At the other side the ground rose to the rocks. Once he was up he would be out of sight.

  Shouts came from below. He ducked to look back. Soldiers were pointing rifles . One of them tossed a rifle to Stewart who chambered a round.. There was a boulder less than ten feet away. He turned to climb but slipped, crashing onto the stone. He felt the passage of the bullet that would have killed him had he been upright. As he lay he watched Stewart reloading. Lying down made for a smaller target but he had to keep moving. Once behind the boulder he would have cover to the other side. He gasped as gravel cut his feet.

  He came out on top of the mountain. If he moved fast he could skirt the bog .

  The Tans followed over the crest, rifles at high port. Spotting him one stopped to fire, the rest ran onto marshy ground…. The leader fell, shouting as he disappeared. A second ran to the spot, dropping to his knees. Reaching , his comrade , grabbed his wrist and dragged him in the mire . Rushing in one of the others dropped to his knees pushing his rifle into the ooze. .. A hand gripped on the butt. The rest came with Stewart, in time to watch as Ryan crossed the treeline.

  A sound came from the rocks above. . He whirled as McGinty’s goat appeared, chewing on a branch of furze.

  The hunters had closed the gap One was approaching the trees. Slipping, he pitched forward, head striking rock. When he came to his senses the goat was standing close. He got to his feet, eyesight blurring.. The goat moved to him. Knotting his fingers in its greasy pelt he allowed himself to be pulled up. Thorns lacerated his feet. He staggered and fell once more. The puck stood by, waiting..

  Sound of rocks scraping against each other. He was standing at a low entrance . ... Waves of nausea overcame him. He vomited. A shout came, voices raised in excitement...Dropping to his knees he wriggled through. The goat followed. Once inside he stood up. The rocks moved behind him cutting him off from the light.

  Taking hold of the puck he began to move. Light exploded behind his eyes. . Darkness came round…

  Something cold brushed his face...

  He could hear the trickle of water. He felt dampness and reached out. The goat pucked him in the ribs.. He tried to get to the pool from the other side. It hit him again .Every attempt to get to the water was blocked. Finally he relented and the goat allowed him to catch hold. They went forward in the long dark. Whispers came to him; muted laughter …

  After a time as momentary as joy, as long as sadness a green luminescence rose in front... It grew brighter until they emerged in a cavern so wide its walls could not be seen... He glimpsed low sized creatures gathering. Some threatened with knives, some brandished rocks. He stopped; they moved towards him. The puck dropped its horns and charged. They scattered, hissing. At the far side, a tunnel; in front a chasm , crossed by a narrow stone bridge. A massive shape stood waiting, its head that of a wolf, its body covered in the scale of a reptile. Its arms were human though longer, slabbed with muscle.Its feet were those of a bear standing upright.

  Not once did it look at the man. Its eyes were riveted on the puck . To the side, away from the monster, a passage beckoned. Turning the puck led him from the bridge.

  His head pounded. Waves of dizziness forced him to stop leaning by walls of rock. He felt the brush of air, frigid but clean ... He could smell water. A lesser dark took shape in front. Lights twinkled in it. Releasing the goat he began to hurry forward .He came out on the side of a mountain lit by a climbing moon. Glaciers flowed from side valleys into a giant moraine striped glacier that stretched out of sight. Breaking a chunk of ice he sucked until his mouth was numb.

  Moonlight picked out forest in the lowlands.Resting for a moment he took time to examine his feet.. They were caked in mud . He could sit on a rock and freeze or he could get out of these mountains. Rising to his feet he set off.Soon the fatigue and cold had combined to become unbearable. Every thought was a litany of pain.

  “Stop. For the love of God. No more.” From somewhere deep in his being a spark of defiance began to brighten.He began a conversation with his body. See the top of that slope? Reach the crest then you can stop…Get to the other side., Then you can rest Every time he reached the place intended, he continued.. The suffering part of him would rail You did not stop… You promised… and the survivor would reply, if you get to the top of the next hill, the one over there, I will stop. At the next hill he would break his promise. It was peculiar but it kept him moving.

  Dawn was breaking as he shuffled close to where he had seen lights .By this time every step needed a deliberate act of will. From a long way off he could hear dogs barking, something rushed at him, hitting him in the chest. He fell, teeth ripping at his legs, reaching for his throat. He tried to push them away. Sounds of voices . He knew no more…

  Spring of the following year brought a girl child for Molly McGinty. The country was filled with talk of peace . Animosities were suspended on a local level as women from the locality came up the boreen to see the new baby.The day the child was baptised McGinty became more drunk than at any time in his life. In this he was ably assisted by a deputation from His Majesty’s. McGinty was exiled to the barn to lodge with the goat. He was allowed back in the house when he sobered up and scrubbed himself in the river . .

  Time flies in a home filled with happiness and before long the valley was full of flowers and it was May Eve once more. ..As night came Moll wrapped the child and took her up the mountain. She sat on the rock, still warm with the last of the sun.

  “That is a grand sight”. The Hag sat by her.

  “Hallo mother”.

  “Can I hold her?”

  The hag took the baby in her arms She began to sing in a soft voice.. The baby opened her eyes ,..

  “How is he?” Asked Moll.

  “He is gone beyond my view.”

  “Will he ever return?”

  “He will be changed if he does. What name will you give her?””

  “I was thinking of Saoirse”

  “A grand name, to be sure.

  Highway Robbery

  Mira woke to the new day, birds clamouring , insects buzzing. She would break camp, and eat in the late morning. … A stone bridge crossed the Blackwater. Now the river would be on her left. Something told her that her days of ease were nearing their end. Rather than hurry she slowed her pace to enjoy the last of them.

  As evening came the forest drew back at the Falls of Doon. A deep pool beckoning she undressed in the shadow of a tall rock. The water was delicious, still warm with a hint of cool . She set the horses to graze near water. Finishing an ear
ly meal, she looked for her books.

  She had two: Masell’s, Jouneys in the Southwest and a book of love poetry by Katum the Dasarian.

  She sat on a log as the shadows lengthened.. She was gathering firewood when her senses became aware of a changed atmosphere. She looked around ... The forest was silent, tense and watchful .

  The trees are aware; they sense what I am about to do.

  She dropped the firewood.

  Later that night two winged forms circled above.. One broke away to the west , the other continued until it passed over where she slept. The wolves came out from the trees to form a circle around the sleeping girl. The pack leader spoke.

  There is nothing to find in these woods, go south.

  With a plaintive screech the abomination turned away.

  Next day began with a heavy mist. Mira huddled under the covers, reluctant to get up. .. Her little troop managed to look resentful as she loaded them ... Stopping at midday, she allowed them to graze by the river. She ate cheese and fruit sitting on a ledge. She followed the track to spy out the rest of the day’s journey.

  A small man sat on a branch. He was ten feet above her head with a crossbow .. He looked nervous.

  “Hallo”, she greeted. “It’s a lovely day. What are you doing in a tree? You don’t look very comfortable.”

  “I want one of your horses and money… And food.” He added, nodding as if to confirm his requirements.

  Mira folded her arms. “Indeed. And what if I were to refuse such an impertinent request?”

  “Why then Madam I would be compelled to shoot you… with this”. He gestured with the weapon. “It would be regrettable but you would leave me no alternative. I am a robber after all.”

  “What is that?”

  “What is that, she asks. It is a crossbow madam. Have you never seen a crossbow?”