by Peter Green
Adrenalin coursed through his veins, he took his life into his own hands and threw himself on to the fender… just as the giant bull Orca flexed its mighty tail, projected into the air towards the defenceless crewman. Amergin lunged out with the bronze spear-headed pike, and as the monster rolled he sunk it deep, just behind the unblinking eye. A perfect strike! The harpooning pike caused the killer whale to veer, the jaws snapping shut on thin air. The giant bull fell back into the slick covered ocean.
Amergin held on tight to his comrade, as the water receded, soaked yet relieved, still in shock, the two of them were hauled to safety.
Xomas took over, seeing to the defences, soaking fenders in palm oil and lashing the pikes into place.
Amergin and his fellow crewman sat in a haunched recovery position, breathing deeply, watching the ocean. Their senses bruised and battered, but still alert to whatever might come next.
Amergin regained his composure, and stood next to Xomas. Staring out to the horizon, “What now!?” Xomas knew they had only gotten a respite. Surely the Orcas would return!
The light of the day almost extinguished now, it was nigh on impossible to see anything. Amergin ordered the archers to assemble at the prow of the flagship. He instructed Xomas to throw a fender soaked in palm oil overboard, letting the currents and the wind take it well away from the fleet, and to where an Orca dorsal fin was last spotted. The fender was far enough away when Amergin ordered the archers to shoot fiery arrows, setting it alight.
*
The blazing fender cast an eerie reflective glow over the ocean, giving them at least a chance of observing the Orca pod. As darkness descended Amergin was aware that the odds shifted in the favour of the Orcas. While the drifting fender continued to burn they might see an oncoming charge. Even so the odds were stacked against them at night. The Orcas’ super senses and honed predating skills left them nigh on helpless, defenceless and at the mercy of these mighty predators.
The crew watched, straining their night vision to its limit. Amergin and Xomas looked for any movement, any dark silhouettes of the upright dorsal fins. The flames from the drifting fender flickered, the palm oil nearly burnt out, the illumination diminishing. “Look, to the south!” Xomas grabbed Amergin’s arm and pointed, “Just there, the entire Orca pod!”
Sure enough, barely visible, the dark sinister silhouettes of a number of upright dorsal fins, hardly moving, they appeared to be circling around an injured bull Orca. The fin of this Killer Whale had become lopsided. The others were slowly circling around the bull Orca, moving it slowly out into the deep ocean. This was the injured Orca bull, harpooned by Amergin, it was being nursed and coaxed away from danger… the killers were moving away!
The flames on the fender raft flickered into the descending darkness. Extinguished finally as the circling pod of Orca disappeared from sight, nursing the giant Orca bull.
One more battle in the name of the prophecy! The fleet relaxed and continued to drift quietly onwards, the crew in shock, nursing their wounded souls, grieving for their comrades.
Amergin moved slowly and deliberately from ship to ship, clambering deck to deck, rallying his fellow Milesians, praising their bravery in the face of adversity, saluting those that had sacrificed their lives in the name of the prophecy.
Amergin embraced each of the captains, imploring them to raise their own and their crews’ spirits.
The next day he would lead the fleet in a commemorative ceremony, mourning their passing but celebrating their lives and their brave deaths. The Chapter of Mystics and the royals would give their blessings.
That night as the crew rested, Amergin and Xomas took the watch in turn. The fire on the raft well extinguished. A new crescent moon rose over the northern horizon and Venus in the west heralding the dawning of a new day. Every cresting wave, in the increasing South Westerly, resembled surfacing Orca in the mind’s eye. Vigilance mixed with foreboding. How many encounters will it take? How many life threatening ordeals? How many of the crew will be lost?
Amergin drifted fitfully into a worried sleep… What of the Guardians of Light? He dreamed fleetingly of another place… where great standing stones dominated the horizon… A blinding, searing light from a portal to the spirit world… a beautiful enlightened being standing astride the gatestones… Sceine!
Amergin woke slowly, knowing now that the battle was being fought on all fronts and over all horizons. This is the time of confrontation, the time for endurance. Personal courage will be needed and faith in their cause.
Amergin felt his father’s hand on his shoulder, “It is time my son. The dawn arrives. We are all gathered to commemorate our lost ones, and then to begin the next phase of our journey of destiny.”
Scota took her son’s hand. Eiremhou and Eimbear walked in procession with the representatives of the Chapter of Mystics. Gonne, the sinister High Priest, raised the conch to his lips and blew with all his might. The sonorous, mournful, resounding notes filled the cool dawn air. They all fell to their knees in prayer as the first rays of sun burst over the eastern horizon.
Milidh met the dawn with a discordant chant, calling upon the Great Spirit to guide and protect them.
Scota sang to the gathered fleet in a pure voice befitting such a royal beauty. The fleet harmonised in chorus. They could collectively feel their spirits lifting. Their hearts, bodies and souls healing…
It was Amergin’s moment, he stood proud and strong, projecting his voice loud and clear. As the warrior prince, poet and sea druid he delivered a rallying speech to his fellow Milesians…
CHAPTER NINE:
THE MESSAGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT
The Divine is absorbed into nature when the Guardians of Light enter the mortal realm.The spiritual and the physical combine, never to return beyond the veil into the spirit world.The life force grows and evolves. All living beings and creatures are irradiated with this energy.
Sceine, as the High Priestess of all the enlightened beings can commune with creatures of every kind. She can command them to do her will. Together they will act in the force of good.
The High Priests of Xhara were aware of her growing powers. Her energy shone like a beacon across the verdant and beautiful Western Province, and over the vast and limitless Northern Ocean.
Sceine, as a beacon of pure and radiant light called the enlightened ones to her land.Sceine rested quietly at the Portal of Hushinish. She had won this battle against MacCuacht, the representative of the dark Sidhe in this mortal realm. She had released the pure energy of the Guardians of Light from the Portal of Hushinish. The equilibrium between the Guardians of Light and the dark Sidhe had been restored. The Portal of Hushinish was in her power, for now at least.
MacCuacht had been repelled, but she knew he would return, he would come again…
There will be a time when he will try to usher the dark Sidhe through the veil and take Tuatha into a dark place. Once there, the dark Sidhe will prevail for the entire cycle known as “Xustra” when planetary influences and the ever increasing trajectory away from the influence of the sun cause the veil between the mortal realm and spirit world to thin and become vulnerable to intrusion and corruption.
The cycle known as “Xustra” begins at the coming equinox, when the balance is tipped and the time of the dark prevails over the time of light. The cycle lasts for a thousand and one years…
Sceine senses that the veil thins now and draws ever closer to the mortal realm.The existing portals in the mortal realm are being compromised and darkened, and even more worryingly newly created dark portals are sucking the very life force and natural Divine energy out of the mortal realm.
This inexorable process continues to strengthen.
The balance tipping slowly and seemingly inevitably.The coming equinox will be critical… She is destined to be with the one known as the Champion of Milesia, the Sea Druid Amergin. He will be key to her and her nation’s future…
Sceine took heart and strength from the evidence before
her. The Portal of Hushinish was so strong and so pure, so enduring. She rejoiced in this place, revelling in the beauty… the luxurious, verdant growth.
A living place abundant with wildlife, the air filled with the raucous cries of birds of all kinds. Sceine felt growth and life in the air, the “Divine” emanating from the portal. She touched the capstone once more and felt the energising charge earthing through her body… pure life, pure goodness…
She channeled her thoughts into the ether, telling all, human or animal or spiritual, to be strong, pure and faithful, “I am here for you. The moment arrives when we must all rally, rise and unite against our darkest foe.”
Sceine knew that only in unity would the Island of Destiny prevail. She felt the presence of the prophesied one, only now venturing out of the deepest ocean, only now about to encounter the dangers so feared. Sceine sent a message to her destined one on the wings of a pure white swan.
Out of the ether, above the radiance of Hushinish, the gloriously rising swan soared into a glowing amber mist and was gone. “My love, I send you this most beautiful of creatures to guide you, to bring you to me, safely.”
Sceine called on her priests to meditate and pray, to connect with the Guardians of Light. They sent messages of encouragement, counseling and advising their priests and their faithful to show bravery and fortitude in the face of the sinister Dark Sidhe.
Even now the portals at the extremities of their land were beginning to be compromised, coming under the influence of the dark forces. Priests and priestesses were witness to the savage forays of MacCuacht. They saw Divine life forms being drawn back into darkening portals. Lured in and lost forever. These lost souls were turned against the Guardians of Light. The portals were literally becoming black holes, insidious and threatening, preventing everything from escaping. Divine light was sucked back beyond the Veil. Growth was halted, the vibrancy of new life deadened.
All kinds of strange events were happening all over the land. Strange forms were appearing where the creative life force met the destructive dark forces. The very essence of life, the genetic makeup, was morphed and deconstructed. Here was a strange limbo zone where heavenly forms morphed into demons and denizens of the dark. Here was a place of lost souls, who were then sent on missions of destruction beyond the veil…
Such deconstructed apparitions were sent to seek out Amergin… the dark Sidhe were aware of his coming…
Only the intervention by the Guardians of Light would save the unsuspecting Milesians.
Sceine summoned the priesthood once more… they must act quickly!
Over the distant ocean, many horizons away, out of a rolling amber mist, flew a white feathered form of perfection. Amergin was the first to see this white winged wonder… meant for his eyes only…
Mysteriously, magically, his mind and his senses were filled with the sensual sounds of the woman of his dreams and visions, “My love, I send this most beautiful of creatures to guide you, to bring you to me safely. “The long necked feathered beauty came to him from the same amber cosmos that he fell into in his dreams…
*
Samhain, the most gifted and connected of Sceine’s priesthood spoke first, clearly explaining the predicament confronting them, “The Milesians have far to travel. They are spiritually bruised and impaired. They have encountered grave dangers, and now confront the strengthening hordes of the dark Sidhe. Turning to Sceine, “I fear that MacCuacht now knows of your predestined meeting with the Sea Druid Amergin, the champion of Milesia. He will try to mastermind and engineer Amergin’s downfall. It is critical that the poet warrior is protected, to ensure that you will meet.”
This was Sceine’s worst fear! How can Amergin be protected?
*
MacCuacht was most certainly aware of their fated meeting. He had shown his hand at Hushinish. MacCuacht was wounded but undeterred, mentally scarred but his allegiance to the dark Sidhe ever strengthening. The Portal of Hushinish was under the control of the Guardians of Light, but for how long? The tide seemed to be turning. Darkness was encroaching on all the portals. On his return to Hawardden he schemed and contrived to find a way of entrapping Sceine and the Milesian champion Amergin.
MacCuacht’s cohorts marched eastwards to the high mountain fortress of Hawardden. The army of lost souls seemed to know no fear. They were enslaved and indoctrinated, following MacCuacht to the death. Their ranks swelled all the time, every confrontation turning more poor souls… the Firbolg, Bith and the vanguard… Even Terese of the Xantha! A mighty recruit! She convinced MacCuacht of the inevitability of his victory. If such a steadfast, ardent supporter of the Milesian cause can be manipulated, then who will be able to resist?
Arrogance was a major chink in MacCuacht’s armour, he dangerously assumed that the dark Sidhe were invincible. His arrogance blinded him to the reality that even though bodies and minds were lost to the dark, the hearts and souls could be redeemed, in some at least...
MacCuacht could feel the very life force of the enlightened ones diminishing. Every portal they passed was capturing light and drawing it back through the veil into the darkening spirit world.
There were an exceptional few, who when exposed to truth and light could be saved… Eiru was such a being. She had been converted to the light. She only now had to peer into the cold, unseeing eyes of her ex partner to realise he was forever lost, forever darkened. The light and life was gone irretrievably. Her world was now threatened by him.
Eiru had seen through his deception, his lies, the horrors perpetrated on the Firbolg and his unfaithfulness to Antiem. The deciding factor was the deception of his beautiful, loyal sister Sceine. She was the embodiment of the light, the epitomy of goodness, love and compassion, traits that were long disappeared in MacCuacht.
Eiru felt compelled to help Sceine, even if it meant turning against her “husband.” The witches! What of the Witches?! Banba and Fodha were mind readers and clairvoyants and shape shifters like Eiru. They were black witches, dark and devious. They scared Eiru even more than MacCuacht. They had tapped into a vein of the darkest magic. Eiru will have to protect herself. She must cloak her thoughts and guard her actions. Once installed in the fortress of Hawardden she would find an opportunity to escape and join Sceine. Eiru knew the time had arrived. Sceine will need all the help she can get.
The army of lost souls marched onwards, through the Gap of Varna, around Lake Neidin and there towering before them the mountain fortress of Hawardden in the Iveare mountain range. The track narrowed, and the line of soldiers thinned as they wound their way up the mountain trail.
Eiru found herself walking next to Terese of the Xantha… “A powerful, beautiful, amazonian woman” thought Eiru. She wondered about her, she had been converted only recently, and as a member of the Milesian vanguard must have been intensely loyal.
Eiru looked into Terese’s eyes, they seemed to have that familiar cold, soulless gaze, but she was so recent… Perhaps there was a way to redeem this lost soul. She would try all her potions and spells once they were back at Hawardden. She must try before escaping to join Sceine.
There was a gathering of the clan that night, a great banquet for the returning forces. Not a celebration, but a collective scheming. Hushinish had been a set-back for MacCuacht.
His brothers MacCuill and MacGreinne, showing their own Machiavellian streaks, questioned his authority. They both, MacCuill in particular, had found his treatment of the Firbolg and his disloyalty to Antiem, their much loved father, very distasteful.
The banquet roared on, much of the Mead of Banna was quaffed, the company getting rowdier and rowdier. There was tangible disquiet in the camp, brother accusing brother…
This was the perfect opportunity for Eiru to make her exit. She searched for Terese. Eiru was so intrigued by her…
Terese sat with a group next to the huge open hearth fireplace in the vast entrance hall of Hawardden. The fire blazed, sending out flickering, jumping, threatening shadows around the great hall
.
Eiru stood next to Terese and offered her a glass of the rich amber mead, “My husband has asked me to talk to you Terese. He believes with your background and experience, you could be of great value to us in the coming times, “she lied, “come, let us talk.”
Terese took the glass and quietly sipped the mead. Eiru had laced the mead with a potion she used to enhance her own powers of clairvoyancy. She hoped the potion would be absorbed into the innermost recesses of her mind and body, infuse into her blood, and promote her own life spirit to the surface.
Eiru waited patiently, looking into the still blank eyes. There! A flash of life, a gleam, a glimmer of an expression! Eiru smiled gently at Terese, she did not want to startle her and alert the others. There again! A glint, a glimmer… There is hope! Eiru probed this time, “You are aware of the Milesian Sea Druid Amergin. He comes to meet with our High Priestess Sceine.”
“I am,”uttered Terese, “I am aware of his coming…” This time like a bolt of electricity, her face broke into an expression of life, her eyes lit up. She looked around with a quizzical expression questioning where she was… “Take another sip,” Eiru offered more mead, raising her glass to her lips. Terese sipped again, and again… the headiness of the mead and the potion, raising her senses, her life force returning, akin to someone emerging from a deep sleep, and the strangest dream, or nightmare as in this instance.
Terese blinked, searching for reality, turning towards Eiru…
“Hello Terese, it is good to see the real you. Do not be alarmed, you have been on a long and terrible journey into the dark. Now you are coming back to the light,”comforted Eiru, “Please be calm. I am your friend. You are in danger!”
Terese took another sip of the mead and potion. Sip by sip, moment by moment, she was returning.
Heartened by this, Eiru took her by the arm and led her to the balcony overlooking the lake and valley leading into the Gap of Varna. The freshness of the mountain air and the quietness of the night revitalised Terese. She was a fighter by nature… very few could resist the dark Sidhe this way. It was a testament to her bravery and fortitude. Eiru smiled…
