Chronicle of Ages

by Traci Harding

  ‘Engaging magnetic propulsion system,’ Robin advised.

  At the pilot’s mental command, magnetic ringed pulses were shot forth from the nose of the vessel into the launch tunnel. Gradually their craft was drawn from its cradle into the field created by the magnetic rings, and as the vessel’s momentum increased, Dragon rescue were catapulted into open space.

  As the visual image of Maelgwn’s PKA recording drifted off into the star spangled universe, an oratory followed.

  This was the first of many successful missions that I flew with Dragon squad, in the twenty years that preceded the Gathering on Gaia.

  Gibal’s head was recovered from the darkened depths of Lura that day. All the Lord’s mental capabilities and knowledge were contained therein and hence, without further delay or concern for the rest of his missing person, Gibal was plugged into a PKA terminal. With the aid of the automated hands of his airborne tool platforms, he set to work on the wormhole stabiliser that Aquilla had begun.

  The topic of my relationship with Aquilla I have to this day only ever discussed with Seshut. Marduk never reprimanded me for the offence — perhaps at the risk of seeming hypocritical he let the indiscretion slide. Or maybe, for some hidden cosmic reason, our brief encounter was meant to be.

  Despite her deception, I still remember Aquilla fondly, and how she gave her life so that I might survive. She threw away a promising career to free the man that she loved and, in my opinion, she succeeded.

  After the war of the Chosen was won and the peace treaty with the Nefilim was signed, I did not seek revenge on Inanna for the loss of Aquilla and the soul that would have been our child. Their deaths had aided to free the Chosen Ones from the repression of our Nefilim creators, and served to enlighten and inspire my as yet unrealised soul-quest of liberty and justice for all the human tribes.

  Maelgwn waited anxiously for Tory to emerge from the trance of the orb; he was positively dying to know her thoughts. Tears were streaming down her face. But did she weep from hurt, sorrow or empathy?

  As the thought recorder switched off, Tory set it aside. Her focus shifted to Maelgwn, along with the rest of her form. ‘I am so, so sorry,’ she began, openly sobbing as she climbed onto Maelgwn’s chair with him to give him a hug.

  ‘You have nothing to be sorry for,’ Maelgwn assured her. ‘It all happened so very long ago, and I am ever so much more wise and contented now.’ He held her tight to quell her emotional outpouring.

  The nature of Maelgwn’s soul-quest came as no surprise to Tory; Maelgwn had told her that part of the tale a long time ago, as it was indeed her soul-quest too. The emotional issues of that time, though, which Maelgwn had never really broached with her, moved her to tears. ‘There is something I don’t understand.’ She peeled herself away from Maelgwn and retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket. It was just a minuscule conflict in Maelgwn’s account that didn’t fit with her memory of events. ‘On second thoughts, it’s not even worth mentioning.’ She waved off the opportunity.

  ‘No, please ask.’ Maelgwn appealed cheerfully, happy to have come through all he had, for it made him all the more appreciative of his present situation. ‘I have waited so long for all this to surface, and now that it has, I want you to know it all.’

  ‘Alright,’ Tory continued at his request. ‘Three years after my etheric form came to see you on the Aten, you paid me a visit in Central Australia, do you remember that?’ she queried, whereupon Maelgwn pulled her close once more, becoming amorous.

  ‘That I do. You had just emerged from a bath and although my astral form did not betray my delight, my physical form was aroused for weeks afterwards.’

  Tory gave him a friendly shove, as he was getting off the subject. ‘At that meeting I asked you about your search for Gibal and you told me that his head had been proving hard to find … but that was obviously not the case?’

  Maelgwn hesitated to explain, fearing making an issue of something that wasn’t an issue any more. ‘Inanna had me spooked pretty badly at that time … I just figured it was safer to keep you in the dark in regard to my hidden agenda.’ He shrugged and smiled. ‘As I said, I am wiser now.’

  Tory must have found this answer acceptable as she snuggled for a hug and they remained in their quiet embrace for some time, each lost in their own thoughts.

  ‘These chronicles really are proving very therapeutic, aren’t they?’ Tory broke the silence.

  Maelgwn didn’t even register her words. He was too caught up in his own thoughts. ‘Let’s have a baby,’ he suggested, and inspired by the thought he began kissing Tory’s neck.

  ‘And end up with Marduk as a son? Or, worse still, have the soul-mind of an elestial rock formation to answer to … no thank you.’ She pried herself from her husband’s clutches.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ he appealed. ‘Where’s your sense of adventure?’

  Tory served Maelgwn a look of zero amusement, but he rose to come after her all the same.

  ‘I’m warning you, sweetheart, I’ve been working out.’

  ‘So have I,’ Maelgwn stated confidently. ‘So what say I wrestle you for it.’

  ‘No!’ Tory flatly refused, backing away from his advance. ‘Babies are not on my agenda, and that is not open to negotiation.’

  ‘You cannot fight the will of the universe.’ He appealed, speeding up his chase and catching her up in his arms.

  ‘Oh, yes I can,’ said Tory softly, putting up no struggle against being drawn into a kiss.

  I wasn’t too sure what I was going to say to our good Governor when he arrived to ask my opinion of his thought recording, some of which would be considered as outright seditious by most of the Pantheon of Twelve. The Dragon’s experience had made me see my place in the universe somewhat differently and my shift in perspective was unnerving. I would have never suspected Marduk and Maelgwn of plotting against the Pantheon.

  My novice preceded the Governor into my audience chambers to announce Maelgwn’s arrival, and then, as instructed by myself prior to the meeting, the lad took his leave immediately.

  ‘Well, En Noah, what is the verdict?’ Maelgwn strolled in rubbing his hands vigorously, obviously most eager to hear my view.

  He seemed very light-hearted about it all, but underlying this I detected a need to be absolved, or perhaps vindicated, I wasn’t sure which. I released a heavy sigh, resolving to be perfectly honest. ‘When you decide to get into strife, Governor, you really go all out.’

  ‘With a little help from you, of course.’ Maelgwn awarded me my due as he seated himself.

  ‘Always,’ I granted, having played an antagonist in this account even more passionately than in the last missing tale I’d been asked to chase up. ‘It appears I have caused you no end of grief and I —’

  ‘No, Noah,’ Maelgwn interjected politely, ‘you have never caused me grief. Intellectually speaking, you are and always have been my most trusted male colleague within the physical world.’

  I was moved to utter speechlessness. Although, thankfully, I refrained from tears, the compliment really was quite overwhelming to me.

  ‘Well, don’t look so surprised.’ Maelgwn found my reaction amusing. ‘With Taliesin gone, you are the first soul I must call to the cause.’

  ‘You can’t be serious.’ I was honoured, hence the smile on my face, but deep inside I was petrified. ‘I am not a druid, or a rebel. I am just an historian —’

  ‘Wrong!’ Maelgwn sat forward in his seat to glare into my soul. ‘You hide behind that scholarly guise, but there is so much more you are capable of if you’d just stop observing your history through the eyes of others and dive right in yourself. The druid, the rebel, and all their accumulated knowledge is right there inside your subconscious … along with a wealth of other knowledge. Why are you so hesitant to go retrieve it?’

  ‘Because every time I go exploring my past lives I discover the same thing … that I was a total loser!’ I didn’t mean to sound sorry for myself, because at present I wasn’t �
� I adored the way my life had unfolded. And now the only man I could never deny assistance to was asking me to get involved in a rebellion against the Masters of the Known Universe.

  ‘Do you think I see myself any differently?’ Maelgwn stood in appeal. ‘The only truly intelligent thing I ever did was wed Tory.’

  This made me smile, as I felt the same way about my own marriage.

  ‘But we can learn so much from our past mistakes and you really owe it to yourself to get aware,’ he suggested before becoming more serious. ‘I will fulfil my quest, not in the near future, but it will happen. Now that you are aware of what will come, how prepared you are to assist us is really up to you.’

  ‘There is no question of that, ever,’ I blurted out, stepping forward to volunteer my services as if compelled by some higher force. ‘I will do as you suggest and pray I live up to expectation when the time of your quest is upon us.’

  Maelgwn came forward to place a hand on my shoulder and instil a bit of courage in me. ‘I have no doubt of that,’ he said, not as if it were expected, but rather as if it had been foreseen. ‘Meanwhile, what do you suggest we do about the chronicle?’ He returned to the seat where he’d left his coat.

  ‘I suggest we edit it rather heavily and store the omitted data in a safe place until such time as it is appropriate to our cause to release it.’

  Maelgwn melted into a smile, obviously approving of my judgement. ‘Fear not, En Noah, I would not lead you astray.’ He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled from it an orb.

  ‘What is that?’ I asked warily, imagining some other deep dark secret that had been dredged up from the past and recorded for my mortification.

  ‘Relax.’ Maelgwn was amused by my paranoia. ‘Tory viewed the orb last night and I thought you might be interested in her reaction … I know that you’re romantic like that.’ The Governor shrugged as if he wasn’t and handed the additional information to me.

  ‘You are very thorough.’ I was thankful for his painstaking attention to this affair, for I would not be forced to go chasing up missing details.

  ‘I hope you can string together enough uncensored data so that the grand-kin can still have their tale.’ Maelgwn began to wander to the door and I accompanied him.

  ‘I’ll do my best.’ I wrinkled my brow, daunted by the task. ‘I trust you are returning for our fair city’s fiftieth birthday celebration?’

  Maelgwn nodded. ‘Asher and Ragan will no doubt hit me with a full report and all their questions then.’

  ‘I’ll warrant you are right.’ I didn’t envy him, knowing all too well how inquisitive the pair in question were.

  The Governor reached out, gripped my hand and shook it. ‘Blessed be, Noah. Until next we meet, may the will of the Logos continue to flow through you.’

  ‘And you,’ I replied, thinking his comment rather extraordinary in so far as he said ‘continue to flow’, implying that the Logos was already working through me. As I was anything but one of the spiritual leaders of the community, I hadn’t really thought much about my soul-quest. I had been too busy going about my physical quest to give it much regard.

  ‘Well, that’s obviously got to change,’ I lectured myself.

  My thoughts turned to the outstanding chronicle I had asked Rhun to provide and I was forced to question why I couldn’t recount the tale myself? After all, Selwyn had been bard to the court of Powys during the time of Rhun’s rise to High King and would have taken an active interest in events. Again I felt a strange foreboding about going back to the time in question — if such exploration was part of my soul-quest then why did my spirit seem to dread it so? Maybe with all that had come to light in the past few weeks, my psyche was weary of learning. I would give myself a few days to recuperate and assess the information before contemplating the challenge at hand, for as heartbreaking as the last sixth century regression had been, it had liberated me of much unwanted emotional baggage.

  ‘I will not live in blissful ignorance any longer,’ I decided. ‘If I have a higher task to perform, then I want to know about it, so I can prepare accordingly.’

  All at once, my temperature rose in a sweat and tears flooded my eyes. I felt the warmth of the beating sun inside my person, burning away my fears and filling me with lust for the quest at hand. Was this the Logos letting me know it supported my decision? The sensation was too awe-inspiring and empowering to have been anything else. When the pulsating heat subsided, I was filled to overflowing with an inner sense of peace and purpose. I threw my arms wide and spun round to embrace my feeling of liberty.

  ‘I am history!’ I shouted out my resolve to the cosmos, as all my reservations had been swept clean away.

  PART 3

  The Age’s Darkest Tale

  Map of Britain 549 AD

  Character List

  KILA

  Author of the Chronicles

  Noah Purcell

  Noah’s wife

  Rebecca

  Governor

  Maelgwn

  Governess

  Tory Alexander

  Head of Space Exploration

  Rhun

  Rhun’s son

  Asher

  Rhiannon’s daughter

  Ragan (Rai)

  Ragan’s understudy

  Salome

  GWYNEDD

  King of Gwynedd

  Rhun

  Protector of Dyfed

  Prince Bryce

  King of Powys

  Blain

  King of Dumnonia

  Cadoc

  Ruler of Dalriada

  Conell MacErc

  King of Gwent

  Urien

  Rulers of Alban

  Talorg & Bridei

  King of Clyde

  Riderich Hael

  King of Reged

  Elidyr

  Heir of Reged

  Llywarch Hen

  King of York

  Elifler

  Ruler of northern Saxons

  Eormenric

  Ruler of southern Saxons

  Cynric

  King of Lothian

  Caten

  King of Bernicians

  Morcant Bule

  Queen of Gwynedd

  Bridgit

  Talorg’s Druidess

  Kaileah

  High Merlin of Briton

  Taliesin

  Merlin of Powys

  Selwyn

  Prince of Gwynedd

  Cadwell

  Bryce’s wife

  Aella

  Queen of Powys

  Javotte

  2nd Prince of Powys

  Owen

  3rd Prince of Powys

  Cai

  Lord of Caernarvon

  Gareth

  Gareth’s father

  Tiernan

  Gareth’s mother

  Ione

  Rhun’s keeper of records

  Gawain

  Heir to Dyfed

  Vortimor

  Vortipor’s champion

  Sir Queron

  King Urien’s father

  Conan

  Head maid, Dwyran

  Elsie

  Lord Bishop of Glamorgan

  Samson

  King of the Tylwyth Teg

  Gwyn ap Nudd

  Siren

  Amabel

  Folk of the Otherworld

  Tylwyth Teg

  18

  Fondest Enemies

  With his feet comfortably crossed upon the rim of the control panel, Rhun reclined in the seat behind the surveillance desk. His team had been on a routine scouting mission appraising a virgin planet in the outer reaches of the tri-sun system known only as ‘cluster double one seven’, and Rhun had been monitoring the team’s movements. But with their survey completed, his crew were on their way back to base. Hence Rhun found himself alone and at leisure as he seldom was during these deep space explorations.

  It was his turn to babysit, which meant he alone stayed at base to g
uard their vessel against raiders and pirates. Their deep-space transport, the Naria, was equipped with a wormhole stabiliser for the purpose of travelling the great distances between star systems. Naria literally meant ‘fly far away into space’. Subsequently, it amazed Rhun how far from civilisation some outlaws had managed to stray without access to the same technology. The scum of the allied systems sought refuge in the deep, dark recesses of space and the Chosen had learnt that it paid to take precautions in guarding against scavengers, no matter where one was placed in the cosmos.

  Off in the distance, out through the front shield window, the brilliant red, yellow and blue stars that formed the nucleus of this system held Rhun’s attention as his thoughts ventured forth to the other side of the galaxy, to the planet of his birth, Gaia.

  His son’s request to know more about Rhun’s rise to High King of Briton had got him thinking about Gwynedd for the first time in a long while. The period in question had not exactly been the high point of Rhun’s life, although it had been the highlight of his military career. Personally, he much preferred to dwell on the misspent days of his youth, running wild with the sons and daughters of the Twelve Masters of the Goddess.

  Raised by legendary folk in a world of honour and miracles, Rhun’s teenage years with the overzealous bunch of would-be kings and warriors were amongst the fondest memories he had. Friendship and loyalty had been more sacred than life then. Thoughts and laughter had flowed freely between him and those he’d considered his brothers. The four sons of King Brockwell, Bryce, Blain, Owen and Cai, along with Gawain and Gareth, had been Rhun’s most trusted circle of friends during his early life. The latter two lads were sons of the High King’s officials, who grew up and were educated with Rhun on the Isle of Mon Angelsey. At this time, Gwynedd and all of Briton prospered under the rulership of his father, Maelgwn. Rhun had never seriously conceived of assuming the throne and didn’t expect to this side of his fiftieth birthday, at the very least. His father was wise, and a warrior to be avoided. Maelgwn enjoyed the best of health thanks to a perpetual state of marital bliss. There were no wars to speak of, nor the likelihood of any erupting. The year before Rhun was born, the Goddess and her Masters had pacified the Saxon threat at the battle Arwystli, so the chances of the High King perishing in a war had also seemed highly unlikely. For the would-be kings of Powys, the situation was much the same, as their father, Calin Brockwell, was the ultimate warrior. After years of tutelage under Rhun’s mother, the great Tory Alexander, a three Dan (black belt) in Tae-kwon-do, Brockwell’s fighting skills had surpassed even hers. There wasn’t a soldier alive who didn’t admire King Brockwell and aspire to match his prowess in battle.