by Peter Green
Amergin and Xesu shivered in unison with spine tingling terror. MacCuill had not finished, “They are under the control of the dark one, MacCuacht, now,” the colour draining from him as he spoke, “and they will be waiting for us!”
The three stayed huddled near the prow. Amergin needed as much information as possible. MacCuill informed him that the ghostly apparitions of Maum, according to the Annals of Tuatha, only appeared at night. During the day they stayed in the darkest recesses of the Mountains of Maum, never venturing away from the satanic foot hills and ridges of Maum. The moonless sky even darker now! Oh for the first glimmer of dawn! Once more the beacons were lit and messages sent to the entire fleet, that they would tack south-east until dawn. A warning was given that all the crew must stay below, barring a skeleton crew necessary to sail the vessels. They were told to shutter all portholes and avoid gazing upon the ghostly apparitions.
The fleet tacked long and hard, the North Wester pushing them in to the blackness.The sea state fine, a mere head high swell wrapping in to the North Channel, pushing them along the coastline of the Eastern Province.
Still a few hours to dawn, they were directly adjacent to the Mountains of Maum. From here the black silhouettes were even more sinister and foreboding. Amergin stood next to Xomas at the helm, only he and the watchman and one of the crew were on deck. The rest remained below, “Thank the Great Spirit for perfect sailing conditions!” he mused, by way of a distraction. The rest of the crew stayed, hopefully protected, down below.
“Keep your eyes peeled Xomas!” his helmsman nodded, these instructions were unnecessary… He was fully aware of the danger...
Amergin processed the information given to him by MacCuill. The Innis would give early warning of their arrival to MacCuacht. He prayed that they remained unobserved under the cloak of darkness. He ordered for all the beacons to be doused. They must sail in stealth from now on. The sails filled in this continuous reach to the south-east. Not a sound! No voices. No activity. They just sailed and sailed in to the south-east…
Xomas was the first to notice the growing bow wave and an undulating swell from the south. He broke the silence, “The tide changes my lord! This will slow us!” Amergin nodded this time, understanding the implications. More time in purgatory... He watched as the dark silhouette of the Mountains of Maum were passing by even more slowly and slowing all the time as the tide ran faster against them. Time began to stand still. Will power and a constant North Wester against the growing might of the tide.
Barely any progress now, the black silhouettes barely moved. They were in a limbo... the tide turning and the planets revolving. Jupiter above them now, the moon long descended on its equinox track... not a glimmer of dawn... still hours to go. The life of a mariner, one minute heaven, the next hell!
The tide pushed and pushed. They were not going backwards, but certainly not forwards. There seemed to be an inevitability of meeting with the apparitions now...
From the blackened silhouette of the Mountains of Maum came an eerie tortured sound, a scream of the Banshee... a scream etched in to the psyche of all mere mortals. A collective shiver ran down the spines of all the Milesians. Someone would surely be taken this night...
Amergin watched in fear. At the first sign of any strangeness they must cover their eyes. Merely to gaze upon the sea sprites of Iness was instant death. Corpuscular bodies of their victims dessicated and destroyed, to become sea salt and returned to the ocean. Be touched by them and your soul is taken to become one of the growing army of lost souls.
They waited in the blackness of the hours before dawn, the time when the world was at its quietest.
Even the North Wester had abated. They made no headway against the surging tide. “This is a dreadful place Xomas!” He was just about to agree with the Sea Druid Amergin and make the suggestion that they put the sea anchors down, when the watchman aloft cried out, “A ghost! I swear by the Great Spirit, a ghost!” Another tortured scream and the apparitions descended from the dark... “Cover your eyes! Avert your gaze! Go below deck... quickly!” He and Xomas sprinted for the hold, leaping in and falling in a terror stricken heap through the open trapdoor. Another cry of the Banshee, followed this time by a harrowing deathly scream from the watchman. The crewman attending to the rigging responded way too late. He had covered his eyes, but the ghostly apparitions of Maum surrounded him and enveloped him. By the time he hit the deck, he knew he was doomed. Rather than his soul be taken and become one of the army of lost souls. He hurled himself overboard, the weight of his armour sinking him to the depths, way out of the reach of the ghostly apparitions of Maum and out of the clutches of the dark Sidhe.
Amergin slammed the heavy hard wood trapdoor shut, “Make sure we are shuttered tight Xomas! Check all the portholes, all the hold doors. Make sure we are sealed in from the ghosts!” Xomas scurried around in the dim light, checking and double checking, getting all of the crew to follow suit.
The dawn was still an hour away. Amergin prayed for the rest of the fleet. By the Great Spirit he hoped they had been vigilant! Crewless, rudderless and helpless in the still pushing tide, the flagship and all the fleet, drifted aimlessly. In the dimly lit gunnels of the flagship, they waited and they waited... the ghostly apparitions, the sea sprite of Iness, swarmed around the flagship, rattling trapdoors and shutters in vain, an occasional ear piercing cry shattering the silence. For minutes that seemed like hours, the ghostly apparitions of Maum searched for a weakness. They impatiently swarmed around the drifting fleet. Amergin and the crew of the flagship shuddered with each scream of the Banshee, and the desperate yell of defenceless Milesian crewmen attacked by these demonic apparitions.
Amergin knelt in prayer in the gloom of the hold. Xesu, the priest of the Chapter of Mystics joined him. One by one the crew fell to their knees. They all chanted sacred verse. They called to the Great Spirit to bring the Guardians of Light forth, through the ever nearing and thinning veil, to help their fellow Milesians. Another yell came from a distant vessel, another soul taken or worse, another mortal body dessicated in to grains of sea salt. With each distant cry, another prayer was given... “Deliver us from this purgatory Great Spirit, may the Guardians of Light bring the new light of day. Save us from the limbo of this night. Help us! We beseech thee!” Xesu delivered his most heart felt prayers to the captive gathering, they responded in unison, chanting to the Great Spirit...
Soon, they could hear chants from the other vessels of the fleet. They kept drifting helplessly with the tide, still pushing but weakening.The sacred chanting lifting their spirits. They chanted louder and louder... so loud they drowned out any cries from the banshee ghosts. This helped to shield them from the shock and terror of when any of their hapless crew were being taken. The chanting spread and came to a crescendo. A gospel of Light raising their sprits... the veil so close now...
Amergin fell in to a shamanic trance, induced by the heartening chants and spiritual prayers. His eyes tightly closed, he shut out the terror of the moment and found himself drifting in to an all familiar amber cosmos. He prayed for their salvation... he felt his body being caressed, his heart being massaged, his soul being cleansed, his spirits rising as he journeyed beyond the veil. He was in the presence of the Guardians of Light and was joined in union with his beloved Sceine…
They journeyed deep in to the spirit world, their bodies entwined... they were destined to be together... they were in rapture... they came in to the Light... In a moment of ecstacy and bliss the Light of the Divine poured through the veil... they were the conduit... they channelled the Light of the Divine in to the mortal realm...
The fleet drifting in the flowing tide... stopped! The first glimmering rays of dawn broke over the eastern horizon. There was a final terrifying cry from the sea sprites of Iness, and the ghostly apparitions returned to the Mountains of Maum. Dawn!
The first freshening gust of the North Wester drove the fleet on. The fleet continued on its long tack to the South East, away f
rom the Mountains of Maum. Divine Light shone over the fleet.The warming rays fell upon Amergin. His eyes wide open now, “Sceine! I come to you my love!” Wide awake and galvanised he pushed the trapdoor open and burst into the broad daylight and fresh sea air…
He searched for the two crewmen, but they were gone! Amergin raised his arms in to the skies, “Great Spirit, protect the souls of our faithful mariners!” He wasted no more time. He called the entire crew, “All hands on deck! We go south-east for one more hour until the tide is fully turned, then we tack to the south-west and the Eastern Province and the Temple of Xhara!” The crews of all the vessels of the Milesian fleet took his lead once more...
Amergin stood defiantly on the prow. He was bathed in the warming sunlight. He noticed the deck where he stood was encrusted with an abnormal layer of glistening sea salt. He swept up a few grains with two fingers. He kissed the sea salt and let the freshening North Wester take the grains back into the infinite ocean, “Another Milesian mariner returning to his spiritual home! Bless your soul!”...
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE:
THE NEMESIS ARRIVES...
The Temple of Xhara is the most ancient place of worship on the Island of Destiny. Ancient diviners who came with the first wave of invaders to this Promised Land recognised the power here. This place is a source of the Divine in nature. This is a place where lay lines of the Eastern Province converge. A place of origin, where the first shamen communed with the Great Spirit. This is the place where the Sidhe were first drawn from the spirit world, through the veil, and into the mortal realm. For a thousand years and more, the Guardians of Light have prevailed, bringing the Light of the Divine into the natural world.
Waves of invaders found enlightenment at the Temple of Xhara and the other portals on the Island of Destiny. The Sidhe of the spirit world had always found a way to coexist with the original tribes, until the war between the Tuathans and the Firbolg had brought the traitorous MacCuacht in to their midst. Against the wishes of his father, the High King Antiem, he cheated, deceived and ultimately slaughtered many thousand of the Firbolg. He unleashed a reign of terror so brutal that there was a tear in the veil between the mortal realm and the spirit world. MacCuacht’s evil brought so much death and carnage, that the dark Sidhe were fed and nurtured and brought in to the mortal realm. Now the dark Sidhe and MacCuacht were in collaboration and threaten to infect the Temple of Xhara and the other great portals of the land.
Seanach, one of the High Priests of the Temple of Xhara, warned his fellow priests that MacCuacht had left the Shadowlands and that a wave of infection went before the army of lost souls. Entire villages were falling to the dark Sidhe. Tribes were being decimated. “There is an agent of evil here we did not anticipate, a pestilence that takes all before it. MacCuacht has unleashed a harbinger of death that we have no cure for, this foulness takes all that come in to contact with it. Many souls have been taken. The army of the dark grows!” Seanach fell to his knees, “Pray with me brethren!
We will take refuge in the Inner Sanctum. We will drink the water of life and send prayers to the Sea Druid Amergin. With the destined one by our side we will go beyond the veil. Together we will battle MacCuacht and his dark pestilence!”
Once more the priests of the Temple of Xhara chanted their sacred verse. The Tree of Life pulsed with Divine radiance. The portal channelled life giving energy from beyond the veil. Light poured forth over the Eastern Province. The Cycle of Xustra was commencing. The enlightened ones must prevail...
Unbeknownst to the Priests of Xhara, the infection came from the head waters of the rivers feeding in to the Eastern Province. The fallen soldiers of the army of lost souls continued to infect the rivers and tributaries of the Shadowlands. Water that sank in to the limestone carst of the Shadowlands rose again in the springs and holy wells through the Eastern Province. The foul pestilence was being carried by stealth in the very waters of life.
As reports of infection became more widespread and the pestilence more virulent, the priests of the Temple of Xhara were beginning to resign themselves to their fate, “Amergin must come soon!”
Seanach sent two priests to the coast to keep watch for the Milesian fleet. “Bring them back with you! Go, in haste!” The priests Cos and Yanis travelled to the coast... They made good progress, climbing steadily. Cos and Yanis were men of nature. They would forage from the wild. The Mountains of Braie rose up before them. Streams of fresh unpolluted water poured from the eastern heights, fresh mountain water flowing directly to the eastern shores and the ocean.
Cos and Yanis arrived at the peak known as Beacon Summit. Here they had the perfect vantage point... eastwards to the ocean, an unhindered view for fifty miles. They could see the mountain chains of the east sweeping to the shoreline. They marvelled at the miles of golden beaches, verdant woodlands and rivermouths pouring their fresh water in to the now benign sea. The priests felt the buffeting north-west wind on their faces. They watched the horizon for the Milesian fleet... “No sign yet!” One watched while the other foraged for timber... they would light a beacon on the appropriately named summit... to speed the Sea Druid Amergin towards them.
Cos observed while Yanis scoured the hillside for fuel for the beacon. He filled the leather water carriers with the sparklingly fresh mountain water. Sipping the pure water of life, he let his gaze scan the western panorama, back towards the Temple of Xhara. He traced the trail from whence they had come... across the fertile Plain of Gobhain, over the meandering River Sieure, in full flood now.
The gathering, menacing storm clouds descending from the Iveare Mountains emptied a torrential deluge over the Shadowlands. Above the Plains of Gobhain, on an igneous outcrop, the Temple of Xhara... too far to make out features, but the visibility just good enough to make out the giant bluestone gateway and the pulsing radiance flowing in to the Eastern Province. The full Equinox moon had set hours ago. The Cycle of Xustra had commenced. As a priest, Cos knew how vulnerable the veil was now. He was heartened to see the glowing radiance emanating from the portal. For the moment, the equilibrium was being maintained. He was unaware, however, of the pestilence sweeping through the Plains of Gobhain, creeping in to streams and irrigation channels and rising imperceptibly into the springs and holy wells. Even the Fountain of Iorwerth, source of the water for the Tree of Life in the Temple of Xhara, was slowly being contaminated.
The early morning sunlight combined with the Divine radiance from Xhara... Yanis returned to stoke the beacon fire. He rejoiced with Cos, his heart warmed by the sight before him.The strengthening morning light illuminating the mountains and coastal plains of the Eastern Province. There! On the far northern horizon, the tell tale cream white sails of the Milesian fleet, “The Sea Druid Amergin arrives!”
Cos and Yanis scoured the mountain side for everything combustible. Dried bracken, lumps of ancient, blackened bog oak and even wind dried and sun bleached horns of long dead mountain goat rams. The beacon blazed, their spirits raised. Their salvation had come! Together they would stave off the onslaught of the dark forces!
Fully expectant, they continued to stoke the fires of the beacon, raiding copses of ancient original deciduous trees. The fleet edged southwards... a mighty fleet, many vessels and hundreds of battle hardened Milesian mariners.
Amergin and Xomas had long seen the beacon burning brightly from the best vantage point in the mountains. The flagship tacked towards the shores of the Eastern Province, the rest of the fleet followed. They sailed straight for the beacon, the coastline unfolded before them. A river flowed across the coastal plains, the source deep in the Mountains of Braie. A constant source of pristine, pure mountain water, the river meandered gently to the sea. A deep, navigable channel opened up before them. Very soon the fleet sailed in to the estuary. Sails were furled, anchors dropped, mooring lines tied.
The beacon still blazed brightly... this concerned Amergin... the beacon so bright, the vantage point so good... their arrival was being announced to all!
Cos and Yanis had by now left the beacon unattended. They were making for the estuary to greet the Milesian fleet. They stumbled down the mountainside like over excited teenagers, following streams until they joined the deep flowing river. They arrived just as the Milesian fleet pulled in to the estuary...
The priests of Xhara, dressed in their white, gold and amber gowns, timed their arrival perfectly. Amergin was stepping off the flagship, on to the gangplank and then the silver sands of the estuary.
Amergin recognised the attire of the priests of Xhara. The same long white tunics edged with gold braid and amber seams, the same attire that Sceine wore when she came to him in his dreams. She was their High Priestess!
Cos and Yanis bowed in deference to Amergin. They introduced themselves and told of their mission.
Almost before they had completed telling their tales, the Milesian mariners came ashore and were readying to march to the Temple of Xhara. “We will return via the Beacon Summit my lord.” Cos explained, “From there you will see the Temple of Xhara, and by dusk we will march there!”
En route to the Beacon Summit Yanis and Cos regailed Amergin with the tales of the Eastern Province, they told of the coming of MacCuacht and the pestilence that swept before the army of lost souls. Amergin dipped his canteen in a crystal clear mountain stream and swigged deep the refreshing water of life.
He observed the land. This was surely an enclave of peace and tranquility, away from the trauma that awaits them over the other sides of the Mountains of Braie.
The priests of Xhara, Cos and Yanis brought them to the summit, a pile of smouldering embers the only remains of the once fiery beacon. From here they could survey the land on both sides of the Mountains of Braie. Such a panorama! To the northern horizon from whence they had sailed. Here, hills and mountains dropped down to the coastal plains that skirt the ocean and continue on to the south. Amergin basked in the warming sun. He did not face the malevolence he expected. This eastern extremity of the Promised Land was free of the dark ones influence... so far...
