by Ian Martyn
At the entrance to the site, they all stopped as if wondering who was going to pay or had their National Trust card on them.
Kirby turned his back on the castle and leaned against the fence, which was still gamely resisting being flattened. ‘What do you reckon, Harold?’
The brim on Harold’s hat, which Kirby noted was now tied under his chin, flapped up and down. It almost poked Kirby in the eye as he leaned in closer. ‘I don’t know. I can’t see anyone. They must be inside.’ He paused as another sudden gust buffeted them all. ‘I suggest we don’t go in there.’
‘Don’t worry, I had no intention of trying to arrest anyone at this point. So what’s this all for?’
Geraldo shook his head and glanced back at the castle, then joined the huddle so he could be heard. ‘I’ve never seen so much magical power in one place. Marianne must be incredibly strong to keep it all here. It’s got to be very unstable. Anything could happen.’
‘Maybe the castle walls keep it focused?’ Harold suggested.
Geraldo shrugged. ‘Possibly.’
‘So much for expert help,’ Kirby said.
Shirley’s radio crackled. She held it between herself, Kirby and Eric, and they leant towards each other until their heads were almost touching. ‘Sir… ? Two… eople, wo.. n says she kno…o.”
‘Who is it?’ Kirby shouted so loud that Shirley and Eric pulled their heads back.
‘Say… er… ame… onnie.’
‘Let them through.’
‘Orry… ot?’
Kirby tried his best idiot constable voice. ‘I… said… let… them… through.’
‘Es…ir.’
forty-nine
Connie arrived with Susie. They were both wearing Barbour jackets. Sensible, Kirby thought.
‘Hello, Jonah,’ Connie said as she turned her back on the raging wind in an effort to be heard. ‘Harold, Shirley. And Geraldo, long time no see. Roberto with you?’ Geraldo’s bag, which he’d put on the ground, moved in response. ‘Hello, Roberto.’
‘Connie,’ replied a muffled voice from the bag.
‘Oh my,’ Eric said to Shirley. ‘I still thought you were kidding about the rabbit.’
‘So what do you reckon she’s up to, Connie?’ Harold asked.
‘Nothing good.’
I think we’d got that far,’ Kirby said, then smiled at Connie. ‘Sorry.’
She put a hand on his arm and returned the smile. ‘It’s fine. I still have no idea what she’s up to.’ She glanced over her shoulder at the fireworks going on behind them. ‘With all this magic gathering in one place, whatever it is, it’s going to be something big.’
‘So what’s she waiting for?’
Connie shook her head. ‘The right time, whenever that is. Also,’ she paused as yet another sudden gust had them all taking a step back. ‘Also, it’s one thing gathering all this magical energy, it’s another fashioning it into something you can use.’
‘Look,’ Susie said, pointing to the main entrance of the castle. Emerging, silhouetted against the flashing light show illuminating the inside, were men in helmets holding swords in the air. The wind dropped a couple of notches while the clouds grew darker and more foreboding, boiling over the castle. The two broken towers reached skywards as if ready to collect whatever forces were about to be unleashed. Electricity ran up the warriors’ blades and arced between them casting a ghoulish blue glow over the faces of the figures in front them.
Kirby felt static in his hair causing it to stand up better than any gel some of the junior ranks used.
‘Ow!’ Shirley shouted as she dropped her radio, which sparked and sizzled as it hit the ground.
Kirby motioned her and Susie to get behind him and Eric, not that he had any idea what use they’d be if these men decided to charge. Connie stood next to him.
‘Tactical retreat?’ Kirby suggested.
Harold shook his head. ‘Look, they’re forming more of an honour guard.’
Connie turned to her right and pointed.
‘What?’ Kirby asked.
‘I’ve called for back-up and it looks like they’re arriving.’
‘Oralf,’ Harold said, grinning. ‘And he’s managed to bring a few friends with him.’
Out of the gloom appeared several hundred men on horseback looking equally as ferocious as the warriors outside the castle.
‘Oh hell,’ Kirby said. ‘I’m now going to be responsible for a pitched battle.’
‘Should we do something, sir?’ Shirley asked.
‘I appreciate the thought, Constable. However, once again I don’t think they’re going to respect your police whistle and a stiff talking-to.’
‘Good point, sir.’
Oralf and his men drew up into a line about a couple hundred yards away from the castle. They drew their swords and started beating them on their shields. At the same time the men either side of the entrance to the castle shuffled aside. The wind dropped to no more than a breeze as two women strode into view: Marianne and Sarah. Both were wearing long red cloaks, which fluttered behind them.
Kirby let go of the post he’d been holding on to. ‘What now?’
‘I suspect this really is the calm before the storm,’ Connie said as two men came to stand between the women in red. One was resplendent in highly-decorated armour, a long scabbarded sword slung across his back, the other was a tall skinny man also in a red cloak. Unlike the women’s, his hung limp.
One of the women stepped forward and smiled across at them. ‘Well, well, Connie. Just couldn’t keep away. And Harold and Geraldo, how nice. You’ve even brought your daughter to see her auntie. Oh, and is that your pet police inspector?’ She laughed. ‘What are you hoping he’ll do? Arrest us all?’
‘Huh,’ Shirley said. ‘I didn’t even get a mention.’
‘I’d take that as a plus point, Constable,’ Kirby whispered.
Marianne carried on. ‘And what about that ragtag army, Connie? Are you expecting them to die for you? Because that’s what’ll happen. If not here, then when we get back. You know me, little sister, forgiveness never was a strong point of mine.’
Connie took a step forward. Kirby put a hand on her arm to restrain her. She patted it and then removed it. ‘You always did like an audience, Marianne. So what now? I know you’re ambitious. You still need men though, and despite this little show you haven’t got enough.’
Marianne laughed again, ‘Oh, but that’s exactly why we’re here. You’ll see.’ Marianne led the two men, who Kirby recognised as Sisillius and Mephisto, along the castle walls toward the seaward side on their left. Sarah stayed with the men at the entrance to the castle.
Kirby and their little group followed along the line of the fence.
‘What’s holding all that power in place?’ Harold asked Connie.
Connie shook her head. ‘I don’t know. It can’t be an easy thing to pull off.’
About half way along Marianne stopped and smiled as she turned her attention to her daughter. Back in the entrance Sarah, a shadow against the eerie glow that now filled the inside of the ruin, raised her arms and threw back her head. Sparks flew from her fingers. Increasing in intensity, they merged into a single stream of energy which after a few seconds began to pulse as if it had a life of its own. Electricity crawled over the walls, occasionally sparking skyward or setting fire to a tussock of grass, which sizzled for a few seconds before subsiding to a dull orange glow. Marianne now turned towards the sea, on which there was no swell, not a ripple; not even the smallest wave disturbed the patches of sand. The last seagull took off with an angry caw. As they watched, a mist rose from the water several hundred yards from the rocky shore. As it thickened, Kirby thought he heard rhythmic splashing. It was faint, but growing stronger.
‘No,’ Connie said. ‘No, no, no, no!’
‘What?’ Kirby asked. Connie pointed out to sea. As he stared across the unmoving water, tall dark shapes began emerging from the fog. The heads of enormous beasts, dragons, we
re shrugging off the damp blanket of mist. Oralf’s men backed their horses a few steps until Oralf barked a command and they stopped. After a few seconds it was obvious that these huge heads were made of wood and painted in crude, garish colours with bared fangs and bulging, ferocious eyes. These were the savage looking prows to large wooden ships and in those ships were savage men. Drifting across the calm sea they could now hear the dull thud of the drums beating in unison, accompanied by the splash of oars. Kirby didn’t need his O-level history to tell him that these were Danes, Vikings.
‘She can’t do this,’ Connie shouted.
‘What’s she doing?,’ Kirby asked.
‘She’s reaching into the past, yet another past.’ She shook her head as she glanced across at Harold who was standing there open-mouthed. ‘She’s forced gateways, disrupted nature. She’s interfered with the fabric of time and space. Nothing good can come of this.’
‘You don’t say,’ Kirby muttered as he too stood transfixed at the sight of perhaps fifty Viking long ships heading to the shore of Northumberland for the first time in a thousand years.
Connie clambered over the fence. ‘No, no,’ she shouted. ‘You can’t so this, Marianne. This is wrong on so many levels. You’ve no idea what impact this might have on our world, this world and their world for that matter.’
‘Too late, Connie,’ Marianne said, pointing out to sea and grinning. ‘They’re here and they’re coming with me. I’ve freed them from their nightmare. They were stuck forever floating on an endless sea, banished from their own lands. I found them and agreed to release them. They think I’m a goddess, Connie. They’re mine. These are the warriors who will win me everything. What’s more, they will breed me more warriors. There are no limits to what we might achieve in our world, this world, any world.’
Connie took two steps towards Marianne before she fell to her knees, gasping for breath. Kirby vaulted over the fence before he too found himself on his knees. He crawled over to Connie.
‘Foolish man,’ she gasped.
‘I’m a copper,’ he said, managing a half smile. ‘Sworn to protect.’
They both glanced up. Marianne’s attention was now on the ships. The steady beat of the oars were bringing them closer to shore. Kirby could hear the faint shouts from the thousands of men in the boats, no doubt eager to begin the pillaging and other things they were renowned for. He glanced back to make sure Shirley and the others were still in one piece, at least for now. They were all standing as if in a trance watching the potential tide of destruction wash up towards the shore.
At Geraldo’s feet the leather bag opened and out popped two white and pink ears, followed by the rabbit’s head complete with twitching nose. Kirby laughed; he couldn’t help himself, it seemed so incongruous. Roberto hopped out of the bag and through the fence. He stood on his hind legs sniffing the air and watching the boats as he ran both paws over his long ears, which sprang to attention in response.
‘Uh-oh,’ Connie said.
‘What?’ Kirby asked as, finding he had recovered some of his strength, he pushed himself to his feet. He held out a hand to Connie.
‘I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise,’ she said as she stood, watching and still holding on to Kirby’s hand.
As they watched together, Roberto hopped across the grass, all the while growing in size. When he was about three feet tall, the image of a giant rabbit was replaced by that of a small man. Small, broad-shouldered and carrying a sword that was nearly as tall as he was, together with a round shield. As the “small man” walked across the field, he now began to grow until Kirby reckoned he was over than seven feet tall. What’s more, the sword which he was now unsheathing had also grown in proportion, which made it pretty big.
‘Oh,’ Kirby said.
‘No!’ the big man roared.
‘Woo hoo,’ Kirby heard Shirley shout from behind them. ‘Go, Roberto!’
Connie leaned into Kirby. ‘Meet Ronnelfus, a.k.a. Roberto.’
fifty
Marianne now turned her attention to Ronnelfus, or Roberto, it didn’t matter. Lightning flickered from the castle walls into her outstretched hands until she was encased in its dancing blue energy. Her cloak stood out behind her and sparks seethed like electric snakes in her hair. After a few seconds she unleashed the gathered power towards Ronnelfus. A split second before it hit him, he held his sword out towards her. The bolt wound itself around the weapon and his arm, seething and writhing with barely contained malice. With a grunt, he swung the great sword in a wide arc, hurling a now white-hot ball of lightning at the nearest ship, which exploded on impact. Kirby pulled Connie into him and instinctively covered his head with his other arm. But instead of debris and bodies being thrown into the sea and crashing on to the shore, the boat winked out of existence as if it had never been there.
‘What?’ Kirby said, staring at the still calm sea where the boat had been only moments before. ‘Sorry,’ he said when he realised he was still holding on to Connie.
‘That’s alright. It’s just that it was never meant to be here. It’s the magic that’s holding them and as soon as that tie was broken, it was pulled back to where it came from.’
‘That’s good, right?’
‘Yes, but he needs help,’ Connie said as Harold and Geraldo joined them with Shirley. As they watched, Marianne hurled two more bolts of energy at Ronnelfus. The first he parried with his shield and another ship disintegrated and disappeared. The third caught him more on the arm, causing him to stagger to his knees. They could see Marianne was breathing heavily with the effort she too was expending, but as Ronnelfus pushed himself to his feet with his sword, she took aim again. As she raised her hand, Kirby heard a loud “twang” near his left ear. Marianne’s arm flew back and the shaft of lightning seared skywards tearing a gaping hole in the black shroud over their heads. For a second, a ray of sunlight bathed them before the clouds closed over, as if embarrassed at having allowed the intrusion.
‘Good shot,’ Shirley called.
‘For once, Harold,’ Kirby said. ‘I’m glad you ignored my suggestion not to come out tooled up.’
Marianne howled, more in frustration than pain, and the small crossbow bolt stuck in her hand burst into flame.
‘Er, sir,’ Shirley said. ‘I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think we’ve rather reminded her we’re here.’
Geraldo and Harold came to stand beside Connie. ‘Get behind us,’ she shouted to Kirby.
‘I told you I’m sworn to protect.’
‘Well, you can’t protect anything if you’re a smouldering heap of cinders. Look, we know things and stand a chance at sorting this, you don’t.’
Shirley grabbed Kirby by the arm and dragged him back. ‘No disrespect, sir, but I don’t think a tweed jacket and stout brogues are going to offer much resistance to what she’s throwing around.’
Marianne raised both arms above her head and flexed her fingers as if manipulating the colossal charge building between her hands. Then with a scream that would have shattered windows if there’d been any, she unleashed a bolt of white menace at them. Connie, Harold and Geraldo threw up their own hands, managing to deflect the crackling ball of lightning over their heads. Half a mile behind them a hedge burst into flames accompanied by the communal bleating of sheep as they tried to find cover.
Connie pointed to her right where one ship, ahead of the main fleet, was close to the shore. ‘They can’t be allowed to land. If they do, there’s no turning this back.’ Ronnelfus had also spotted the danger and was surging into the glassy water to meet them, roaring his challenge as his boots sent plumes of spray into the air. Oralf responded by lining his men up on the beach ready to charge.
Kirby ducked as another bolt of pure energy hurtled towards them. Again it was deflected, and again trees and bushes were incinerated to the noisy alarm of the unlucky sheep. This time Connie, Harold and Geraldo staggered, holding on to each other for mutual support. Kirby could hear their ragged breathing.
Harold’s coat was smouldering in places. It seemed his John Lewis hat was made of less stern stuff as the top ignited.
Harold wrenched it from his head and began stamping on it. ‘Damn, I liked that hat.’
‘And there’s me saving wine corks for it,’ muttered Shirley.
Meanwhile, Marianne was gathering herself again.
‘We can’t keep doing this,’ Connie said, hands on knees, sucking in air. She glanced back at Kirby. ‘Remind me to get fitter if we get through this.’
Kirby was about to smile when he spotted Marianne throwing her arms forward again. ‘Duck!’
All five of them threw themselves to the ground, and with a hiss of static the fiery ball flew over their heads. Another chorus of plaintive bleating signalled its landing. To their right, a clash of swords announced that the first of the Vikings were off the ship. Ronnelfus, up to his thighs in water, had already dispatched three of them and the others were hesitating as the sea hampered their movement.
‘What now?’ Kirby asked.
Connie shook her head as she pulled herself upright. Marianne was also catching her breath when Susie’s voice rang out.
‘Sarah, Sarah, please don’t do this.’
They turned to see Susie walking up the incline to the gateway in which Sarah stood, arms out, head back at an unnatural angle. Her feet were several inches above the ground as purple lightning held her, swirling around her body. Sisillius’s men stared at Susie as she approached, but made no attempt to stop her.
Connie rushed towards the gate, followed by Kirby. ‘Susie, no!’ Connie cried.
When they got there, Susie was standing just a few yards from the maelstrom that centred around Sarah. Sarah’s eyes were closed and her whole body seemed to be vibrating, her skin alive with writhing spears of crackling blue energy. ‘Sarah please, it’s me, Susie.’
Susie took another step forward. Eric was behind her, holding on to his helmet. Connie waved him back.
Connie approached her daughter from behind. ‘Susie, listen to me, stay there.’
