~
Nuzum Mir stepped toward Ae’fir.
Scalibur had held strong, had absorbed the death blow. But Ae’fir’s sword arm lay useless at his side. Nuzum Mir’s mace glowed with a baleful aura.
Ae’fir took a step backward, drawing Nuzum Mir in, overstretching the giant. Nuzum Mir’s mace followed Ae’fir, its mighty head slamming into the ground where Ae’fir had stood scant moments before. The yew shook with the impact, sending splinters of wood into the air. Ae’fir turned away, but the splinters bit deep into his neck and arms.
He felt a rush as the yew’s sap reached his veins, its power racing through his blood. The bones of his useless arm knitted suddenly together with a surge of pain. He struggled to stay on his feet, but Scalibur called. He brought his blade up just as Nuzum Mir lunged.
Ae’fir parried and came in with a sharp riposte, delivering a ruthless undercut to the giant’s belly. Scalibur scraped across the giant’s armor, finding a chink in the chainmail. Ae’fir followed up, pushing Scalibur through the chink, its steel finding flesh.
Mesmerized, he thrust deeper, moving beyond skin and muscle, penetrating the soft tissues and beyond to bone and the giant’s heart. Ae’fir twisted the blade viciously, severing the giant’s heart in two. The Nephilim’s blood ran down his blade in a red tide.
Nuzum Mir’s eyes froze, his body hanging on Ae’fir’s blade. The giant tried to raise his mace but managed only to drag it a short distance.
Understanding clouded Nuzum Mir’s face. He pulled himself along Scalibur until he was eye to eye with Ae’fir.
“You’ve won this time, brother. But next time? It’ll be a different story. Go now, enjoy your spoils, but know this: we will face each other again someday . . . and then . . . I will overcome . . . you.”
Nuzum Mir slumped forward onto Scalibur’s hilt, his life gone. Ae’fir allowed Scalibur down and put his boot on the Nephilim’s carcass. He pulled his sword free.
“There is only ever one winner, brother. And it will always be me. Go now―join your brothers on the otherside, give up your struggle and accept defeat. Do not return to trouble the Erthe or its people again.”
Ae’fir looked up. The Gray Knight and his men were approaching, wading through the loch. He faced them, standing tall on the yew’s roots.
“Come on, fleshbones, I’ve got all the time in the world. I’ve got something for each and every one of you.” He raised Scalibur, its golden light shining bright in the late morning sun.
~
The Banishment buckled, trembled . . . and was breached.
The Aes Sidhe marched through. The air around the giant yew shimmered and the tree disappeared. In its place stood a woman.
A goddess.
Danu. Mother of the Aes Sidhe.
She looked down and saw Ae’fir on his knees, surrounded by fallen enemies. The Gray Knight stood above him, battle-ax raised.
Danu raised an eyebrow. “Enough! Enough killing. Lay down your weapon―do as I say, or you will live to suffer an eternity.”
The Gray Knight laughed at Danu’s words. “You? A woman? You will stop me, son of Loarn, King of Dal Riata? Watch me finish your friend, bitch, and then you will feel the bite of my steel.”
Danu raised her arms and Aes Sidhe warriors burst forth from the loch’s enchanted waters in an endless stream, all eyes on their leader.
Danu’s face remained impassive, her voice cold. “As you wish, son of a viper. Your eternal pain begins now.”
The Gray Knight’s eyes went wide as he watched the Aes Sidhe host materialize around him. He felt something unfamiliar course through his body, taking him by surprise. A long-forgotten feeling: fear.
The Gray Knight felt pinpricks on each leg. Slowly, they reached his waist and drilled into his stomach. His bladder emptied, urine spilling down his legs just as his heart burst, his vision melting away. His body disintegrated into shards, releasing his spirit into the air. It hung there, invisible, a terrified presence.
The Gray Knight’s spirit screamed. The scream that would haunt the islands for all eternity began that day.
Danu turned her attention to Ae’fir. “Come, brave warrior, join me. Stand at my side and feel your wounds heal. We have work to do: we need to cleanse the Erthe of this darkness. We need to take back Dal Riata, our homeland.”
Ae’fir’s battered body felt a surge of strength as Danu’s enchantments did their work. His mind cleared, his reason returned. Understanding and joy flooded through every fiber of his being.
“Aye, my Lady. I’m with you. Let’s begin our work.” Ae’fir’s eyes flicked to Myrddin and Cal, who were stood, pale and wide-eyed, nearby. He allowed himself a smile. “Come, join us. I need you both. You have proved yourselves to be loyal to the dream―now, be loyal to the reality.”
Cal looked at Myrddin and nodded. Myrddin turned to Ae’fir, his voice firm. “Aye lord, we’re with you. The land needs healing.”
Ae’fir raised Scalibur, its mighty blade glittering in the sunlight. Danu turned to the massed army below.
“Arise, Aes Sidhe warriors. Follow me across sea, across land, across mountains and rivers. We’ll visit every corner of Dal Riata and cleanse her of Loarn’s disease. Rise and join with me.”
From the throats of thousands, a tide rose: “Follow the new king. Follow King Ae’fir. For the Aes Sidhe, for Dal Riata, for Danu.”
~
Mevia of Imraldi stood over her sister’s grave. It had taken a long time to find Aril. The lung rot had claimed many lives, and in the end, it had taken Aril to a common grave outside Imraldi’s walls.
Aril had died alone.
Mevia cursed herself. She had failed.
It had been a long few months. The battles, the skirmishes, the bloodshed. But at last, the land was free from Loarn’s persecution. But it was too late for Aril; she’d never stood a chance. There was always a cost: Eriu and Aril had paid the price, their journey continuing on the otherside.
She would meet them again someday. Mevia turned back toward the city. Imraldi held nothing for her now―it was just another city of ghosts.
But she had found friends and a new king.
Her life was just beginning . . . the healing would follow.
The End
About the Author
Fergal F. Nally is an outdoors lover often to be found out and about among it all in the Scottish Highlands. His passions are hillwalking, music, and reading great fantasy adventure novels. He lives in Edinburgh. Aes Sidhe is his sixth novel.
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