"Aye, but did you see your mate's face when she said ‘hello’?" Druca laughed and kicked his pony forwards so that he was level with Luan. "Still looking a little pink there Luan lad!" he teased.
Luan coloured again. He had turned a rare shade of purple when Bridie had thrown her arms around him as he rode up. To make matters worse his pony had shied away, pulling Bridie with them. She had giggled hysterically, dangling with her hands locked around the boy's neck, almost pulling him out of the saddle. By the time Luan had disentangled himself and got Bridie safely to the floor, the rest of the boys were in hysterics.
"It's not what it looks like!" he retorted.
"Oh no?" replied Druca. "Does she know that?"
Luan stared straight ahead. Druca waited for a reply and then just laughed again.
"Come on lad," he said "I'm only pulling your leg. Where'd you meet the lass anyway? And how come she's here?"
"I met her in the road," Luan responded quietly, worried where the conversation was going.
"He saved her life!" Fin called from behind.
"Oho!" Druca crowed "Now this is a tale worth telling. Romance and chivalry! Lucky we are to be riding with such a hero!"
Luan had had enough. He kicked his heels, urging his pony to the front of the patrol, leaving Fin and Druca laughing behind him.
THEY CAMPED THAT NIGHT in a meadow by the road. Silken grass stretched down to a shallow stream that twisted between tree roots and boulders before plunging away between two great rocks. Fin dumped the load of wood by the fire pit and straightened, rubbing his back. Beyond the stream the heather was just starting to glow purple as the ground rose steeply to the ridge beyond. At the top the crags shone against a darkening sky, lit up by the last of the sun.
"Hey Fin lad, you think that'll do?" Druca dropped a prodigious armful of wood on top of Fin's.
"Hmm?" Fin's attention was caught by the two figures down by the stream, Brenn was helping Bridie collect water. Druca followed Fin's gaze and laughed.
"Looks like your princess has found herself a prince, hey?"
Fin frowned.
"She's not my princess."
Druca laughed.
"You know that reminds me, I'm supposed to be looking out for a princess."
"Aren't we all?" Fin replied.
"No lad, a real one." Druca sounded more serious now. "The daughter of a tribal chief, near my home in the north. She ran away apparently, and there's a reward for taking her back."
"Well," replied Fin. "I think you're going to have to keep looking, because if she's a princess then what does that make her grandfather there? A king?" Fin jerked his thumb in Mack's direction. The old man was sitting on the back of the wagon, directing the boys’ efforts as they made camp. He looked over and frowned, clearly irritated to see the boys standing idle.
"Hey you two," he shouted. "Get over here."
"Maybe he is!" Druca grinned. "He certainly likes giving orders."
THEY ATE WELL THAT night, the simple fare of the patrol supplemented by six chickens that Mack conjured from the wagon.
"Picked these up this morning," he said with a grin. "Thought you might be hungry."
Teenage boys always are and the thirteen of them plus Cail, Mack and Bridie made short work of the plump birds, roasted over the glowing embers of the fire. The hiss and sputter of the fat and juices punctuated the conversations that flowed back and forth, sometimes coming together before splitting again. Bridie sat uncomfortably, aware that much of the conversation was about her.
"Mack?" The old man ignored her, too engrossed in his food.
"Mack!" She tried again, this time adding a sharp elbow as punctuation.
"Wha..hrrf." Mack coughed and spluttered on his mouthful of chicken. "Watch it girl, nearly had me chokin’."
"Everyone's looking at me."
"Don't be daft." Mack turned back to his food.
"I'm not." Bridie pulled at Mack's sleeve. "They are looking and I'd be surprised if they weren't. An old man ..."
"Not that old!"
"...and a girl suddenly join their patrol? How are we going to explain what we are doing here?"
Mack wiped his mouth on his sleeve and turned to give Bridie his full attention.
"Don't worry lass," he reassured her. "I've got it all sorted. Wait until the end of the meal. Now, I suggest we eat before these lot scoff the lot."
They had reached the point where most of the food had gone save for a couple of the boys still pulling at the chicken bones. Cail stood.
"Alright you lot, listen." The conversation around the fire died away. "I expect that all of you are wondering about our visitors and are eager to know why they have joined us, well most of you anyway." Cail paused, his attention taken by the sight of the Weasel, engrossed in gnawing at a whole chicken carcass. "You know that the Kingdom is under threat, chiefly from the Pireacht Empire." He paused again to allow the mutters and growls of assent. "Aye, but that threat is not the only one. Lately there have been rumours of trouble among the eastern tribes, supposedly our allies. We cannot afford to have another enemy to the east when all our resources are needed in the south. So our job is to escort Mack, an agent of the King. He knows the tribes and their languages and is tasked with finding out what's going on. More than that, he has the authority to negotiate with the tribes to make sure peace is kept. His granddaughter travels with him."
Cail paused again and looked round the group of boys. "You were picked for this because you are the best in your cadre. You're a good bunch of lads but you're going to have to do even better. From now on you are King's men, and must behave like it. It is time to do your duty!"
Even before Cail sat down a buzz of conversation broke out. Bridie smiled. It would do, she thought, the idea of a real mission would convince them. She looked around at the boys talking excitedly and for a moment a shiver ran down her spine. There was danger ahead.
"TODAY WE WILL BE ENTERING the territory of the Wolf Clan." Mack sat on the back of the cart addressing the patrol with Bridie at his side. Three days had passed. Days in which the farms and villages of the Kingdom had become fewer and further apart as the landscape gradually changed. Pasture was replaced by moorland and rough grazing. Trees were smaller, stunted and twisted by the wind, clinging to the steeper slopes of the hills. In spite of this they had made good time, the better road more than making up for the terrain, even with the wagon to slow them down.
"Wolf Clan should be friendly, they have been neighbours of the Kingdom for a long time and have benefitted greatly from trade. In many ways they are little different from the people of the Kingdom, indeed all along the border the people of tribe and Kingdom have intermarried, much like in the north."
Here Druca nodded, the tattoos on his cheeks a mark of his mixed heritage.
"However," Mack continued, "they are still tribesmen, proud and quick to anger. You must be careful not to give offence, particularly where girls and women are concerned and whatever you do, do not threaten or bring harm to a wolf. They are as much part of the clan as the tribesmen themselves, to kill a wolf is to start a war! And the further we go into the tribal lands, the more careful we must be. Beyond the lands of the Wolf are those of the Eagle clan, brave and fearsome warriors. I would be lying to you if I said we were not going into danger. We aim to make peace but we must be prepared to fight." Mack paused and looked around the watching boys. They seemed nervous, but he had something to raise their spirits. He jumped down, turned and hefted a blanket wrapped bundle from the back of the wagon.
"A present from the Captean," he announced. "He said to look after them or he will skin you alive when you get back!" With a theatrical flourish Mack shook the bundle open at the boys’ feet.
"Would you look at that now?" Callum's usual stormy expression was replaced by a broad smile. Druca knelt and almost reverently picked up one of the swords, half drawing it from the scabbard. The dark metal reflected the light with a hint of menace.
"The iron swo
rd of the Klaideem." Cail spoke from the back of the group. "Better than anything a tribesman will have."
Suddenly the boys were a bustling crowd, grasping for the swords as Druca handed them out as fast as he could. Some strapped them on at once, or drew and held them up to the sky. Others simply held them in both hands, staring down as if they didn't believe their luck.
"Why all the fuss?" Bridie asked Luan, who was leaning against the wagon and feeling left out.
"The sword of the Klaideem is more than just a weapon, it is a symbol of honour," he explained. "To wear it is to show that you are no longer a novice."
"So you haven't been a novice for ages then," Bridie replied. "You've had your sword since you set out."
"That's true!" Luan felt better. "Let's hope we don't have to use them."
Bridie turned to Luan and her young eyes seemed suddenly wise.
"I have heard tales of the Eagle clan," she said, "and none of them were good. The eagle is the king of the sky, and like the eagle the clan acknowledge no power but their own. I doubt they will let us cross their lands unopposed."
Two – A Crow Gives Warning
The cliffs loom ghost-like out of the mist
Oars held steady, the silent ships
Glide on towards impending war
Waves crash and sigh on an unseen shore
LUAN GUIDED HIS PONY up the rocky path taking care to make as little noise as possible. For two days they had followed the steadily worsening road eastward into Eagle Clan territory, through a spectacular landscape of pine covered ridges and long silver lakes. They had seen no one, no villages, not even a farm. It was as if the land was empty. Somehow that had seemed to make Cail more nervous and he had started sending a pair of boys to scout ahead of the patrol. Today it was Luan and Stav.
Luan stopped just short of the top and held up his hand to signal for Stav to do the same. Handing over the reins, he slid from the saddle and crept up the remaining slope, keeping low. At the brow of the hill he lay prone, ignoring the mud and thistles, and surveyed the path ahead. To his right, Luan felt the overwhelming mass of the mountain looming above him, to his left the ridge continued to run to the north-east, rising until it too disappeared into the cloud. Beyond the ridge the path dipped sharply before levelling off past a single standing stone that thrust upwards as if driven from below. Beyond it a tumbled ruin clung to the top of the crag, little more than a spidery tracing of low walls. The path then turned back on itself as it started to wind down the steep slope to the valley below. The valley floor itself was veiled in mist but in the distance Luan could make out the shimmer of water, another lake he guessed. To either side the steep sides of the valley were thick with pine. A single crow perched on top of the standing stone, feathers fluffed up against the cold. As Luan watched it stretched its wings and flapped them once, then shuffled its talons slightly to the left and settled into stillness once again. It was the only movement he could see. There was no smoke, no noise, no sign of life at all. Luan slid backwards and then made his way back down the slope.
"Looks alright," he said as he took back the reigns and pulled himself into the saddle.
"See anything at all?"
"Just a crow."
"Rather a crow than an eagle!" Stav gave Luan a quick grin as he set off up the slope.
Luan felt it as soon as they crested the hill, the sudden tug in his stomach, the familiar dizziness. He kicked his heels, urging his pony on in an attempt to overcome his discomfort. The standing stone grew in his vision, dominating his perceptions. The reins felt strange in his hand.
"What is it?" Stav's voice seemed to come from far away.
"Nothing." Luan shook his head as he tried to clear his vision. He looked up. The crow had spread its wings, turning its head and fixing him with one black eye. Suddenly the bird launched itself into the air and flew directly at Luan. Even as he ducked out of the way he heard its call.
"Go back, back, baaaaaaack," the final word of the warning elongated into a cry that drifted on the wind as the crow circled up and away, wings silhouetted against the sky.
"Wait!" Luan called. Stav turned to see the boy slide from his saddle.
"What is it? Are you sick?" Luan shook his head but Stav could see he could barely stand. He kicked his leg over the saddle and jumped from his pony, reaching Luan just in time to help him sit down without falling.
"Well something's the matter, are you going to tell me what it is?" Luan shook his head again
"I can't," he replied.
Stav looked at Luan for what seemed a long time then sat down opposite him. "What if I told you I knew what it was?" he asked.
"What?" Luan looked up with eyes full of panic.
"It's alright," Stav reassured him, "just listen," and he sat back and began to talk.
"My mother died when I was just a young boy." Stav waved aside Luan’s expression of sympathy. "It's ok, to be honest I can hardly remember her. Anyway, my father found a woman from one of the villages to look after me and she told me many tales of what she called 'the fair folk'. Creatures that lived in another world, a world full of wonder and magic, close to us and yet far away at the same time. She told me that the fair folk could be kind and good, but also dark and terrifying, that they would cross into our world at certain times and meddle in ordinary people's affairs. She also said that some people were sensitive to the other world, they could feel it, even sometimes make contact with it. Especially if they were near the fair towers."
"The fair towers?"
"Standing stones. Like this one." Stav nodded in its direction. "My father said it was all nonsense, that he didn't believe a word of it, but that didn't stop him leaving an offering of milk and honey at the standing stones every midsummer night." Stav paused, waiting to see if Luan would say anything. After a moment he continued. "Some nights ago I was on watch when a scream woke the whole camp. It was you, having a nightmare. You shouted a word: Nedelhain. A word that nagged at me, I knew I had heard it before. Then I started remembering those old stories and the tale of the Nedelhain was a tale of fear. I remembered my mathair describing the dark crows of the night, the souls of dead children reborn, winging their way from the other world to tap at the shutters and cry down the chimney. She said the Nedelhain called a warning that death was coming, and any who were outside when the dark crows flew would be found the next morning, stiff and cold in the dew, their dead faces twisted in terror."
Luan shivered and wrapping his arms around his body he looked into Stav's eyes and saw his own fear reflected there.
"Luan," Stav continued. "You need to tell me. Was that one of the Nedelhain? Are we in danger? I need to know."
"I don't know," Luan replied. Stav began to protest but Luan cut him off. "But there is some truth in what you say. The Nedelhain cry in my dreams, but I have never faced one for real." Luan paused. "I don't think it was," he continued thoughtfully. "But it was a creature of the spirit world, if only for a time. I could swear it cried a warning, to go back." Luan stopped again, his eyes searching the face of the lanky boy opposite him, unsure of how much to tell.
"They are not all bad." Stav spoke hesitantly. "They say that the fair folk help those that show them respect. Should we not heed this warning?"
Luan shrugged. "What would we say to Cail?" he began. "That we were scared off by a crow? I think we...Look out!"
Startled, he jerked backwards. The rush of black wings fanned his face as the crow hurtled between them; a brief black flash that soared out over the valley with a long mournful cry. Stav leaped to his feet, hand grasping instinctively for his sword hilt, but then stopped, his attention caught by the single eagle feather that twisted and rolled in the air.
LUAN FELT SLIGHTLY foolish. The sense of imminent danger had begun to ebb as soon as they crossed back over the pass. By the time they were back with the patrol doubt had set in.
"A crow you say?" Cail stood, the feather held in his hands.
"Yes," Stav replied. "It let fa
ll this token."
"But you saw no one?"
"No." Stav too looked doubtful.
"There was something about the place." Luan felt the need to justify themselves. "There is danger there."
"There is danger all around." Cail sounded dismissive. "We go on." He pulled himself onto his horse, letting the feather fall as he did. The patrol began to move off. First Cail, then Mack and Bridie in the wagon followed by the rest of the boys. Brenn pulled a worried face as he passed. Fin shrugged and smiled in encouragement. Drustan was less sympathetic.
"Scared of a crow!" he snorted as he passed. The Weasel said nothing, just spat heavily on the eagle feather as it lay on the ground.
Luan met Stav's gaze as the last of the boys passed between them.
"Sorry," he said.
"Don't be." The lanky boy suddenly grinned. "Let's hope we're proved wrong." He swung himself into the saddle and kicked his heels to send his pony trotting after the others. Luan stood, unable to quiet the sense of foreboding that rose within him.
IT SOON BECAME CLEAR that the wagon could go no further. To Mack and Bridie's credit they managed to get it within sight of the top of the pass, but at a tight hair-pin bend the horses met their match, unable to cope with the gradient despite all the cajoling and encouragement that Bridie could give. To make matters worse it had started to rain, a fine but persistent drizzle that made unloading the wagon an even more miserable task.
"I suppose you'll just have to sleep on the floor with the rest of us," Drustan remarked as she led her horse past.
"You’re welcome to share the warmth of my blankets," Easoch leered. Brenn turned with a murderous look on his face, Fin's hand went to his sword hilt, Mack hefted his staff but Bridie moved quicker than any of them. Before he knew it the Weasel felt Bridie pressed up close, her upturned face smiling.
"Think you'd like that?" she asked.
The Arena of Lost Souls Page 2
