by G. P. Taylor
‘If you insist,’ said the voice, even softer and lovelier than before. He felt his neck being gently stroked by long warm fingers.
The hat was ripped from his head and he opened his eyes to see. In shock he gave a sudden, long and shrill yell. There before him, dressed from head to foot in black leather, was a Glashan, its long white hair and goatee beard blowing in the soft morning breeze.
‘Oh, Captain Farrell,’ it said sweetly in the voice of Elizabeth. ‘How good it is to see you.’
The Glashan laughed and slapped Farrell across the face.
‘Human beings, human dirt,’ it growled through its golden teeth. ‘What rot. Just look at you, torn apart by greed and lust, you’re so confused you don’t even know your own heart. You slave every day for possessions that mean nothing and in the end you have to leave them all behind when death kisses you gently and calls you to her breast.’
The creature grabbed Farrell by the ears and stared at him through its cat-like eyes.
‘You, my friend, will be used for what you do best.’ It clicked its long thin fingers and with that appeared the small squat figure of a Dunamez, which scratched around the forest floor like some wild pig, jumping around excitedly.
‘Quiet, he’ll be yours soon enough,’ the Glashan said to the Dunamez as it panted in anticipation. ‘Let’s savour what we are going to do. We can’t rush Captain Farrell, he’ll want to see everything.’
With that the Glashan stepped back and beckoned the Dunamez to step forward. Before Farrell could scream it stepped into his body choking his breath from him. He was overwhelmed by the stench of its breathing as it stretched out inside him.
The Twisted Oak
THE light from the cloud penetrated the depths of the forest giving a strange glow to the fallen leaves strewn across the ground. It criss-crossed in dark shadowy patterns on the forest floor giving the appearance that it was fighting against the sun to cast blacker shadows.
Thomas, Kate, and Raphah walked along the path, the only sound the crunching of dry leaves underfoot. Thomas held the sword in his hand. Raphah hugged the Keruvim tightly beneath his coat. He felt that its rescue had been too easy – it had fallen into his possession without a fight; the forces that desired its power had released it without an ounce of blood being shed.
Kate kept watch, looking in amongst the trees for the slightest sign of the creatures that had chased them along this same path. They passed the tree where the Varrigal had attacked them. She could see the deep sword cut where it had tried to kill Thomas only to miss and sink the weapon deep within the bark. The tree had begun to rot, the bark had turned to a soft pulp, which was oozing out from the cut and spreading like gangrene. The tree, sagging and drooping, looked as though it was melting as the rot crept through each fibre. A noxious smell filled the air. They covered their mouths with their hands and walked quickly by.
‘That could have been you,’ Kate said to Thomas.
‘It must be something in the metal of the sword,’ Thomas replied looking at it, wanting to cast it away. It somehow felt wrong to carry the weapon, as if it had a power that he should not be a part of.
‘It’s the creature that brings evil,’ said Raphah. ‘Where there is life it will bring death, where there is growth it will bring decay, and where there is light it will bring darkness. It is a reflection of Pyratheon. The creatures can do only what he desires.’
‘So what about Demurral? He thinks he can control them,’ Thomas said.
‘It’s as if they are on loan. He can use them but they do not belong to him. He is deceived into believing he has the power, when in reality he too is a puppet. People who use these forces never really understand the true energy behind them,’ said Raphah. ‘They think that they are the masters when in reality they soon become the slaves. Pyratheon gives them what they want … until he wants them.’
‘But I thought that Demurral followed God?’ Kate interrupted. ‘How can he leave all that behind?’
‘It’s so easy. Many people start off on the right path, then greed or envy start to burn into their hearts. Soon the things of the world take over and they are far from where they started. Power has always been more sought after than love and yet the true power comes when we find the one who can bring us perfect love. We must cling to that with all our hearts.’
Thomas listened to Raphah as he walked. The path through the wood overlooked the bay. He knew that a new future lay ahead of him. There would be no going back to his old life. Whatever happened, he knew his life would be away from this place. As he looked across the sea to Baytown the view appeared to have changed. He could not tell if it was because of the strange light from the cloud or if something within him had opened his eyes so that he was seeing it in a new way. He felt sad yet excited. It was as if he was changing, growing, and becoming a man. He gripped the sword, trying to make sense of all that he had seen. In the daylight and the open air the world of darkness was so far away and yet he knew that even behind the veil of light the forces and powers that sought their destruction still lurked, waiting for the moment to strike.
The path through the forest dropped into a small valley; a twisted oak tree spread out its branches like the roof of some large gothic cathedral.
It was Kate who saw the man first. It was as if he had appeared from nowhere. He was walking slowly ahead of them with his head down. He clutched a long shepherd’s staff in his right hand and over his shoulder was flung a goatskin bag. A large felt hat covered strands of black hair that fell in long ringlets down his back and over the dirty grey frock coat edged in yellow that was obviously too big for him.
She tapped Thomas on the shoulder and pointed to the man.
‘What shall we do?’ Kate asked.
They stopped walking and huddled together. It was Raphah who replied.
‘Let us keep walking; he looks like a shepherd. Thomas, keep that sword to hand. If he is more than a man, strike out and then we shall run. Kate, always keep ahead of us and don’t fall back.’
The man had stopped and sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree that lay across the long ditch that ran by the side of the path. He had taken the bag from his shoulder and now rested it on his lap. He had brown, weather-beaten skin. With his right hand he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
‘Don’t be shy,’ he called to them. ‘I don’t like to be followed; well, not through these woods. You never know who may be after you.’
Thomas tried to hide the sword behind his back, not wanting the man to see what he carried.
‘You might need that one day, lad, there’s no need to hide it from me,’ the man shouted. ‘Why don’t you come here and join me? I have fresh bread and salted fish – you can have as much as you like.’
It was hunger that prompted Thomas to turn to the others and gesture for them to follow. They walked cautiously over to the man and Kate leant against the tree. Thomas stood two arm’s lengths away, the sword firm in his hand.
‘It looks like you three are hungry,’ said the man. ‘Here, have some of this bread.’
He took the loaf between his two big, strong-looking hands and broke it in two and then into four, handing a piece to each of them and keeping one for himself.
‘Do you want some fish? It’s been well smoked and tastes of leather but I’ve been told it does you good.’
He offered them a small piece of brown, dried fish. The meat clung to the dark lined skin and smelt of oak chippings. Thomas took a handful and greedily pushed it into his mouth. It mixed with the wad of bread to form a delicious smoky sop that gave off the fragrance of burnt wood, yeast and fish with each chew.
‘You all look hungry. You must have come a long way,’ said the man. He looked at Raphah. ‘From the look of you, you must have travelled the furthest. Wouldn’t expect to see one like you in these parts.’ He stopped speaking and waited for Raphah to reply. There was something familiar about the man, which bothered Thomas. He knew he had seen him before, but he could not remember wh
ere or when.
‘Are you from these parts?’ Thomas asked. ‘I can’t remember seeing you before, yet I seem to know you.’
‘I’m a shepherd, come to look for some of my sheep that have lost their way. You’ve seen me before. You’re Thomas Barrick, your father was a fisherman; and you, young lass, are Kate Coglan, daughter of the Excise man. See, I know you both so well. Where are you going?’
‘We are going to a friend’s house,’ Thomas replied, realizing that the man had avoided the question.
‘The only friend I would choose in this forest would be Rueben the Boggle. He’s a good friend of mine, a man who can be trusted. I’ve known Rueben since he was a babe,’ said the man.
Kate looked at his face; he looked no more than thirty years old. He had young eyes that burnt bright blue in the dark frame of the weathered face.
‘He’s twice your age – how could you have known him as a baby?’
‘You see, Kate …’ the shepherd paused. ‘It’s like what your grandmother said when your brother died. It’s not the length of life or gold of kings that makes a person rich, it’s the love that we gather on the way.’
It was as if Kate had been stunned by a sudden and numbing blow. She shuddered and fell back against the fallen tree trunk, gasping in astonishment. These had been the words spoken to her by her grandmother every night before Kate went to sleep. They were the last words she had ever spoken in this world. They were private words shared in love, words that had kept away the fears of the night, words that Kate had repeated and repeated like a prayer. He could not possibly know them. She felt he had stolen them, eavesdropped into the most precious moments of her life. And yet they carried the same infectious feeling of love and warmed her heart as if they had been spoken for the first time.
‘How did you know?’ she whispered.
Thomas and Raphah looked at Kate but did not grasp the significance of what had been said.
‘So what about your journey? Is Rueben going to help you?’ the man asked.
‘How do you know Rueben? You can’t be older than he is,’ Thomas said.
‘I know so much of what goes on in these parts. You just have to listen to the wind or stand silently in the wood and you hear the voices calling. There are no secrets, nothing can be hidden from me.’
Thomas stared at his face knowing that he had looked into those eyes before.
‘So what about you, Thomas: when will you learn to swim? You can’t rely on that caul you carry, or this lad, to pull you out whenever you fall into the sea.’
Thomas looked at Raphah in amazement.
‘My family never swim. You have to trust your boat. How did you know Raphah pulled me out of the sea? Was it you that pushed me in?’ Thomas asked angrily.
‘You’re like your great-grandfather, he had a fiery temper just like you. He knew me just before he died. Called out to me and I was with him … You’re straight out of the Barrick mould,’ said the man.
‘How could he have called out to you? He was ten miles out at sea in a storm. They never found him, all they brought back was the empty coble.’ Thomas felt so angry. It was as if this man could pick a moment from your life and tease it before your eyes.
Raphah didn’t speak as he looked at the man. He too found something familiar about him, something that he had seen before or an inflection he’d heard before in his voice. The man had a dark skin that looked burnt from years of toil under the sun. Around his eyes was a myriad of lines that spoke of hours of laughter. His face was one open smile with white teeth that flashed brilliantly when he spoke.
The man broke another piece of bread and handed it to Raphah.
‘You look hungry and far away from home. Whatever has brought you here must be important to you,’ he said.
‘It is far more important than some people will ever know or understand,’ Raphah replied. The man laughed.
‘You want to serve your master with all your heart do you?’ He looked at Raphah who was readjusting his jacket over the Keruvim. ‘What have you got there?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ Raphah snapped, quickly taking a step back from the man. ‘Nothing of any importance.’ The Keruvim flashed its pearl eye in the sunlight.
‘And that is your prize?’ asked the man.
‘My prize is worth more than this,’ said Raphah as he took another step away from the man.
‘Are you frightened that I might snatch it from you, that I’ll take it like a common thief?’ the man asked. ‘The cattle on a thousand hills belong to me, not even Solomon in all his glory had the wealth that I possess.’
‘Solomon?’ Raphah looked at the man, unsure if he had mis-heard what he had said.
‘Solomon,’ the man replied quickly. ‘The great King, the one who built the temple to place in it what you carry.’
Raphah showed his surprise.
‘You know of Solomon, your people are descended from him. It is your task to keep the creature that you hold on to so tightly from the world. You have done well to save the Keruvim from those who would use it for evil.’
Raphah, Thomas and Kate all stared at the man. It was as if in that moment they had all come to a sudden realization that they were in the presence of someone who was mighty and powerful and yet came to them in the rags of a poor shepherd.
‘You are …’ Raphah could hardly speak.
‘I AM WHO I AM. That is all you need to know. You must go quickly from here, do not go to the Mill. Go to the seaport to the north. There you will find a church at the top of the cliff. Go there. It is important that you arrive before midnight tomorrow. In that town you will find a man who knows me and that man will put you on a ship for France. Keep trusting me; I will send the Seruvim when they are needed.’
The earth on which the man stood began to glow, his clothing began to change, his appearance softened and he smiled.
‘I will be with you always, even to the end of the time,’ he said as he was surrounded by swirls of golden light that blew like millions of thin strands.
From out of nowhere a violent wind began to blow from the sea. The trees of the forest rattled against one another as pieces of timber and branches blew through the air. The swirling wind picked up the dead leaves from the forest floor and blew them round and around forming a great impenetrable mass of browns, reds and green. The leaves battered against their faces and Thomas curled up as small as he could against the forest floor while Raphah and Kate huddled in the crevice between the tree trunk and the rich earth.
The sound of creaking, snapping and breaking branches filled the air. The crash of wood against wood echoed through the glade as branch smashed against tree. In among the highest limbs of the trees darted tongues of blue and red fire that flashed and sparked as they hit each branch. The noise of the whirlwind, the flames and the crashing branches almost burst their ears with its savagery.
Thomas looked up, dirt and tree bark splattering into his face. He tried to look at the man who stood in the centre of the whirlwind, completely transfigured. No more was he dressed in the clothes of a shepherd. His clothes shone like bright silver, his face was as radiant as the sun itself. Thomas hid his gaze from the brightness. In a moment the man was gone and all that was left was the goatskin bag propped against the side of the tree. There was complete silence, complete peace.
Raphah was the first to pull himself from the refuge under the tree trunk. He dug his way out of the leaves and branches that had been heaped on top of him by the whirlwind. Kate scrambled out, gasping for air. Thomas lay face-down on the ground, his hands covering his head to shut out the noise of the wind. He pulled himself to his knees and looked at Raphah and Kate.
‘Was that …’ he asked, unable to finish his sentence.
‘It was Riathamus, I just know it was,’ Raphah replied shakily, shocked by the experience.
‘How can you be sure – it could have been one of those creatures in another form?’ Kate said, picking the dry leaves from her hair. ‘He could have kill
ed us with that storm. Where is he now, how can you be sure it was him?’
‘I just know, don’t ask me how. It was his voice, something in his eyes. It was the way he knew so much about us,’ Raphah answered.
‘Then we’ll have to do as he says. Whitby is a good walk; it’ll be dark within two hours and we’ll never make it before nightfall,’ Thomas announced as he got to his feet.
Kate picked up the goatskin bag. It was made of one piece of skin folded over and a thick leather strap twisted its way from end to end. She peered inside. It smelt of fresh grass and treacle, cinnamon and hot bread. She closed her eyes and breathed in the glorious sensation. She began to smile.
‘What’s inside?’ Thomas asked.
Kate looked in the bag, where there was another small loaf of bread, several more pieces of salted fish wrapped in a muslin cloth, some gold coins and a small silver flask. Rummaging in the deepest part of the bag, she felt two pieces of stone. When she took them out of the bag, she saw that they were identical, the size of a goose egg and completely clear like glass. The surface of each stone was brightly polished and they weighed much more for their size than she thought was normal. She showed them to Raphah.
‘What are they?’
‘I have never seen anything like them before,’ Raphah said as he took one of them from her outstretched palm and looked at it closely. ‘If they are from Riathamus, then they will have a power and a purpose. Put them back in the bag – there may be eyes watching – I have a bad feeling about this place.’ He looked around the wood, watching for any sign that they had been followed. ‘I think we should carry on with our journey. Which is the best way?’
‘If we leave the wood we can get up on to the White Moor and then on the road to Whitby,’ Kate said. ‘It would be best to avoid Baytown. Too many people know us.’
‘What do we do with the bag?’ Thomas asked.
‘We take it with us. It has everything we need for the journey. It has been given to us for a reason and I feel that the reason will make itself clear, very soon.’
